Fate of A Shooting Star: Comes Back to Haunt
by ImpossibleImpact
Summary: Chapter 2 of FASS series: Optimus Prime and his team jump straight into action as a series of ancient relics crash land on Earth, but is it all that safe to uncover the past so readily, when it was buried for a reason. And why does Aulora start to feel like she's being watched?
1. Approaching Tide

**hi hi hi!**

**so welcome to the next chapter in the Fate of A Shooting Star series! totes magoats excited :) so i apologize for the black and white cover image. truth be told, I couldn't find my pencil sharpener to sharpen my colored pencils, so I had to stick with a mechanical one :) #mylife**

**Go ahead and throw some reviews at me :) **

**Playlist for Approaching Tide:**

**Runnin' : Adam Lambert**

**Rocketship: Shane Harper**

**See You Again: Carrie Underwood**

**Hello World: Aloe Blacc**

**Jennette McCurdy: Generation Love**

**Midnight Memories: One Direction **

* * *

"Is he always this late?" Aulora asked, peering down at the motorcycle beneath her. The beautiful teenager was propped against Jack's dark purple motorcycle, watching as an eerie silence fell over the parking lot, completely void of any human life at all. And at 3 o'clock on a Friday afternoon, that was to be expected.

"Not really. Unless he got talking to Sierra," Arcee responded, causing Aulora to smile at the eye-roll beneath Arcee's somewhat irritated response.

"What, the cheerleader captain?" Aulora asked.

It was the Autobot guardian's turn to smile to herself, able to hear an obvious dose of concern beneath Aulora's curiosity.

"Is that jealousy I hear?" Arcee asked, with slight amusement on her tongue.

"Jealousy? Arcee, I haven't known Jack long enough to _be_ jealous. I'm just…interested in why," Aulora simple commented, turning her head back to the front door for any sign of movement.

"What do you mean 'why'?" Arcee asked.

"I don't know. He just…doesn't talk about her," Aulora explained to the Autobot femme.

"Jack's a pretty private guy, Aulora. He doesn't broadcast a lot about his life," Arcee explained, also eyeing the large doors for any signs of her charge.

"You're probably right," Aulora said. She peered down at Arcee's tilting review mirrors, the only outward signs that there was a living mind and body beneath her.

"So why Jack? I mean, why did you pick him to look after?" Aulora asked, interested in the fact she had not asked the Autobot before.

"To be truthful, Aulora, I didn't want a charge. I didn't want anything to do with Jack, Miko or Raf when they first showed up at base. It was actually Optimus who assigned Bulkhead, Bumblebee and I to our designated charges. But Optimus must've known exactly what he was doing, because I think I can speak for myself and the others, that Optimus couldn't have paired a better Autobot to a human," Arcee explained, reminiscing back to the first day she had brought Jack home, so alert and hostile, she had nearly opened fired on June.

Arcee peered her mirror up at Aulora, knowing there was a deeper question burning inside her than the one she was asking. She remembered being able to sit down with her old partner and listen to him talk on and on for hours about the now teenage human a top her. And if Aulora hadn't changed since then, then Cliffjumper's assessments would still stand. Aulora wasn't a big talker. As a girl of few words, Arcee never seemed to understand how such an open, chatter-box like Cliffjumper became so close with the young human. Until Arcee came to the final, amusing conclusion that Cliffjumper had finally found that quiet ear that wouldn't interrupt his stories and tales.

Arcee watched as Aulora's eyes fell to the dark, pavement beneath her feet, completely lost in her thoughts. Until it suddenly occurred to the Autobot; Aulora didn't have a guardian. It had been almost two weeks since Optimus first discovered Aulora, and since then she had been handed off from Bulkhead to Bumblebee to herself, and then back around, watching as the other humans enjoyed the tight friendships they had formed with their guardians. Aulora had no one. She never said a word as she was informed by Optimus, every morning, which Autobot and human she would be riding with to and from school, but looking into her forlorn eyes, Arcee knew it was slowly digging at her mind. She was surprised her leader had not designated a guardian for her. Being that Bumblebee, Bulkhead and herself already had their hands full with their own humans, and Ratchet was primarily at base and past his prime to thoroughly protect her in immediate danger any way, Optimus was the only possible candidate. But Arcee knew well that Optimus was nothing but efficient and demanded nothing less than success, traits that required his attention to be on and for the team, 'round the clock. To have a human to worry about on top of all of that responsibility, Arcee would feel guilty placing that kind of burden on her leader.

So then who? Given the fact she was a long-time Autobot ally, had had a face-to-face encounter with the Decepticon leader and was holding a very rare and valuable serum, Aulora was at a greater risk than the other humans, putting her need for a guardian as a top priority, one Arcee hoped was on Optimus's mind.

She was about to reassure Aulora, that in due time Optimus would _have_ to find her a guardian, when the front doors swung open, unveiling a tall, slender girl with red hair pulled back into a high ponytail with a sweater and mini-skirt, followed closely by Jack. Aulora watched her as she continued to giggle about something Jack said, a broad smile on his face as she playfully nudged him in the shoulder with the tips of her fingers.

"Oh Jack, you're so funny," she commented, both Autobot and Aulora inwardly chuckling at the high-pitched, foolish demeanor the teenager coiled around Jack and didn't let go. Typical girls.

Jack suddenly caught sight of Aulora leaned against Arcee, her legs casually stretched out in front of her, her hands in her pockets and her loose hair strands dancing playfully in the wind.

"Oh, hey Aulora. Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, habitually scratching the back of his head with guilt, as Sierra and him made their way down the steps to Arcee's parking spot. But not too much guilt.

The raven-haired teenager was suddenly struck with a thought and again he reached his fingers back to sheepishly play with the strands of hair on the back of his head.

"Sorry, guys, my bad. Sierra, this is Aulora. Aulora, this is Sierra, the high school's head cheerleader," Jack explained.

Sierra's smile immediately dropped as she beheld the new student, her eyes drooling with cruel judgment as she dissected the now very self-conscious teen. But she quickly snapped back, throwing on a large, fake smile and mechanically stretching out her arm.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Aulora," she said, forcefully lowering and raising her voice to give the smaller girl the impression that the cheerleader gave any concern to her, especially when Jack was bringing a _new student_ home, and not her.

Aulora gave a small smile and was stretching out her hand, eagerly ready to grasp the student's hand and introduce herself, when her eyes horrifically caught sight of the bandages still wound around her arms and hands, slowly becoming visible. Aulora's cheeks immediately changed to a bright shade of pink and she quickly shoved her hand back in her pocket, and threw a bigger smile to the sophomore.

"It's really nice to meet you too, Sierra," she said, regaining her composure and letting her quiet, sweet voice trickle down her tongue as she looked skeptically down at her pockets, internally sighing to herself. That was way too close, she thought to herself.

"So, Aulora, where are you from?" Sierra asked, noticeably dropping the fake interest she had sugar coated her voice in, and now replaced it with hints of skepticism, as she took another close look at this…girl Jack had suddenly befriended.

"I, uh…traveled around…a lot," Aulora meekly answered, nervously tugging a loose piece of hair behind her ear.

"So, uh, Sierra was just telling me that the squad is looking for another flier. You should try out Aulora," Jack quickly added, nervous of the awkward tension that seemed to settle between the two girls.

Both turned to the idiot boy and threw him a deathly glare. While Aulora's was filled with pure mortification and terror, Sierra's exploded with rage and fury, her eyes alone warning the boy to stop talking before he said something else stupid.

"Jack…I, uh…no, I mean…I don't think so…Jack," Aulora fumbled, her clumsy tongue embarrassingly fumbling across her mouth out of pure humiliation from being caught so off guard, her cheeks burning brighter and brighter by the second.

"No, it's ok Aulora. It's not really your speed anyway," Sierra replied smoothly.

Aulora simply stood there, stunned by Sierra's comment, watching as the cheerleader gathered a small piece of hair and tucked it behind her ear.

"Well, I got to get going. My mom and I are heading out to Venice beach for the weekend, and I don't want to be late. Jack, can you walk me to my car?" The red head asked, throwing back on her girly, playful, foolish disposition as she threw a big-eyed stare to the tall boy.

"Ah, yeah. Sure. I'll be right back," he said, turning to Aulora as he made his way after the already disappearing red-head.

"It was nice meeting you," Sierra called out, simply waving a hand back to Aulora, who returned to her relaxed tilt against Arcee, quietly sighing to herself.

"Well, I guess that answers that question," Arcee stated, staring after her charge and his crush.

"You said it," Aulora agreed.

* * *

At first, their efforts were fruitless. No matter how long Alpha Trion and Prima sat for, concentrating so hard, Solus Prime often worried for their health, they could not complete the simple task of reading each others' thoughts. They would sit and stare at each other, sometimes for days, in complete silence, waiting for something, anything to fly across their mind. But nothing worked. Prima grew worried, as the rumors of the traitorous Megatronus and his off-world excursions plagued the nations, even causing some to uproar, and continued to exceed his efforts in establishing a firm Telonian connection with the archivist. What Prima failed to comprehend, was that Primus created this gift with the hope that it would further connect the 12 Primes, and possibly prevent Megatronus from going through with his Sun Harvester missions, as he grew less and less sympathetic toward life. The Telonian connection was created for Prima's Matrix to choose someone deeply worthy of his mind and spark. For in order to establish a connection, the Matrix of Leadership must sense that companion is not only well trusted by the Matrix holder, but wields the great qualities and gifts of Primus himself. Though, in time, Prima was able to read Alpha Trion's mind, and acquire a glimpse at the frequent visions the archivist was experiencing, it was too late. Prima was not able to discern much from Alpha Trion's glimpses into the future, and it was Prima's obsession with discovering just what Megatronus would have planned for the future, that he failed to concentrate on the chaos the Prime was causing at that moment. Prima was able to gather the remaining Primes to combat the rogue Cybertronian on a distant planet, located deep within the Milky Way Galaxy.

_Knock, knock, knock._

The young Prime tiredly shifted his eyes up from the data pad in his hand to stare at the door, as if they carried an unseen weight on them.

"It's me…Arcee," the muffled voice added.

"You may come in," Optimus answered.

Arcee slowly opened the door into Optimus's quarters and beheld the quiet Prime as he stayed seated as his desk, his head slowly pulling away from his propped hand and setting the data pad on the desk.

"Arcee, is everything alright?" he asked, curiously inspecting his soldier. She displayed no outward signs of distress or anxiety, though she always did well in covering these emotions, remembering the last time she was in his quarters was shortly after Cliffjumper passed away, the young soldier almost altogether avoiding his requests to speak with her.

She nodded her head firmly. "Yes, Optimus. Everything's fine. I only came here to ask you a question," the femme replied. Optimus could feel his eyebrows slowly twitch up in interest.

"Very well. What is your question?" he asked, turning his body around in the chair to face the small Autobot, trying to show his team member that she had his undivided attention, although his thoughts seemed to be slowly luring back to the idle data pad on his desk.

"I was just…curious, if you gave any thought to a guardian for Aulora," Arcee asked. Optimus was almost surprised by her question, but he reminded himself that Aulora and Arcee had grown fairly close after her aunt had supplied aid to a wounded Cliffjumper. And though Optimus knew very well Arcee was not one to create very outwardly displayed companionships, creating rather large and hard barriers to crumble and push aside to reach her trust, Aulora had seemed to have it since Arcee had first heard of her through her partner. Whether the two females had shared a friendship with Cliffjumper, or the fact that they were simple very similar in personalities, Arcee was always the first to volunteer to bring Aulora to and from school, along with Jack, which suggested to the Autobot leader that something was growing between the two. This question strongly supported that statement.

"I have given some thought to the subject, yes," Optimus answered. Arcee watched as her leader ever so slightly faltered after his answer.

"And-d-d? Who is it?" she asked.

"I have deeply reflected upon every possible candidate. Bulkhead, Bumblebee and yourself were my first choice, however it wasn't long after this decision that I realized enough responsibility was placed upon you with only one human charge, and a second would not only require more of your attention, which could be directed at other missions, but it could render you less capable of defending them from harm. So then I considered Ratchet as a possible guardian. Though he seemed like a more fitting choice, each mission continues to prove that Ratchet is best-suited at base, where he can continue to provide his scientific and medical expertise, a task he wouldn't be able to complete at full capacity with the duty of guarding a human child. Wheeljack did become a possibility, but his rather lack of discipline and self-control, along with his defiance to any type of authority for that matter, immediately deemed him incapable of taking on such a responsibility. I also contemplated Agent Fowler's roll as Aulora's guardian, however, Agent Fowler assured me that his rather occupied schedule would not be able to correspond with the duties of being a "sitter" as he put it," Optimus explained, watching as Arcee folded her arms casually across her chest sometime during his explanation.

"So... if we can't, and Agent Fowler can't…who's going to watch over her?" Arcee pushed. She watched her leader as he let out a delicate sigh. Not because of her questioning. It seemed to be due to the fact that he was falling short of a worthy candidate.

"After deep consideration, I find that it is best if I was to act as Aulora's guardian, even it is for the time being," he answered.

"Really? Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Arcee asked, and Optimus couldn't help but ponder over his soldier's question, truly reflecting on his choice and if it really was such a "good idea."

"Aulora is in dire need of a permanent and single guardian. Given recent events, Aulora is a very prominent threat to the Decepticon cause, if she was not already. Although, there will be frequent occurrences where I will require Bumblebee, Bulkhead or yourself to act as a temporary transportation for the young McAllister, it is also due to recent events that I find it would be rather effective if I were to be some type of figure in her daily routine," he explained.

Recent events. That's what was plaguing the young Prime's mind. Recent events. She turned to look at her leader directly in the eye.

"Have you talked to her at all?" she asked. She watched curiously as his eyes not only slightly widened in bafflement, but also a little…guilt.

"I find that Aulora does not seem to wish to speak with me at this time," Optimus simply stated.

Optimus was right. She remembered seeing Aulora numerous times leave the main computers with some excuse, only to see Optimus enter immediately after. She was avoiding the Prime, for reasons Arcee could understand. Being able to read someone's mind; it was scary, daunting and real, three words that are dangerous together.

Arcee nodded respectively to her leader, and turned to leave his quarters. She suddenly stopped in the middle of the door way, her hand resting on its frame.

"A wise person once told me that closing yourself off from feeling, won't help anybody. Aulora might need help figuring that out," the Autobot femme added, before slipping back out into the hallway, leaving the young Prime in the empty silence of his quarters to burrow within in his own thoughts once more.

* * *

"Optimus, come see this!" Ratchet beckoned from his stance in front of the main computers. The field medic's commander quickly reached his side, worried by the urgency in his old friend's voice.

"I've just picked up a reading from the center of the Indian Ocean. Some type of…object is creating catastrophic pulses of electromagnetic frequencies," Ratchet explained, bringing up graphs of the pulses' wavelength patterns.

"Prime!" Neither the medic nor the leader turned their head to address the former Army Ranger, their eyes locked on Ratchet's work, as their liaison stomped from the elevator to directly in front of them.

"My boys just located a thunderstorm with killer waves right next door to Australia, and they have reason to believe it's one of your toys!" Agent Fowler exclaimed.

"We have detected it as well, Agent Fowler. We're just bringing up its schematics…now," Ratchet explained, filling the main computer screen with the objects inner and outer workings.

"By the Allspark," Ratchet gasped, staring wide-eyed up at the screen.

"What!? What is it?" Agent Fowler asked, tilting his head back to look up at the screen before him.

"It is an Iacon Relic," Optimus stated.

"I never thought Project Downfall succeeded," Ratchet commented, looking up at his leader with questioning edged into his face plate.

"What's a something-con Relic? And what's Project Downfall?!" Agent Fowler demanded impatiently.

"The Iacon Relics were a classified set of weapons and tools that were locked away safely in the Vaults of Iacon by the Autobots, in Iacon City, due to the rising threat of the Decepticons. Among these relics, the Vaults contained numerous weapons of warfare and destruction, biological warfare viruses and their antidotes, and even the ancient weapons of the Primes themselves. During the final days of the war, and Cybertron, Alpha Trion, one of the members of the Iacon Relic Committee launched Project Downfall, which sent each Iacon Relic, along with a homing beacon, to off-world sites, many shipping out to further galaxies, out of the Decepticons' hands. Which is why it is possible relics such as these can be found on remote planets, such as this one," Optimus explained to Agent Fowler.

"And this," he explained, indicating with a nod of his head to schematic pictures on the computer screens, "would be the Polarity Gauntlet, its schematics found in Solus Prime's numerous memoir data pads and later recreated by Shockwave himself," Optimus explained.

"It has to ability to create seismic magnetic fields that were used to catapult an entire Autobot fleet with the flip of a switch, before Autobot forces were able to seize it and lock it away," Optimus added.

"Which would explain the strange natural occurrences. The Gauntlet must've been accidently activated, and has generated a large enough magnetic field to increase the moon's magnetic pull on the Earth, causing the large waves," Ratchet explained.

"We must shut the relic down before the waves travel close enough to neighboring civilizations to cause damage," Optimus proclaimed.

* * *

Aulora continued to peer up at the left computer screen. While the other three humans were a little more focused the on the super magnet, displayed on the center screen as they scrolled through the base's data files concerning the weapon, she was completely focused on the 4 Autobot life signals that were stretched across the screen. Each picture of each Autobot was followed a long bar, filled with a smaller green one that continued to fluctuate with each passing second. She continued to monitor them, Ratchet informing her that as soon as the graphs dropped below the middle line, and the green changed to a red, they needed to be bridged back. She was fascinated at how sporadic the graphs could get. While Bumblebee's seemed to dance around at whatever level it pleased, Arcee and Bulkhead's remained rather steady, until out of nowhere they would spontaneously drop or rise, while Optimus's seemed to stay at the same, healthy level, with a steady spark beat.

Her heart seemed to stop short upon watching Optimus's spark beat. A steady pulse.

Bump, bump, bump. Each bump followed by a patient, steady pause, before recollecting itself again and spiking once more.

Bump, bump, bump.

Was that how his heart always was? Patient and regular; never leaning to one side or the other. What was it like when they entered each others' minds? Did his heart pump hard and fast, trying to keep up with each flashing image? Or did it slow down and stall, not able to keep at the images' pace? Or maybe it stopped altogether? Maybe it just sat there, feeling utterly lifeless and exhausted, as a foreign object twisted inside his mind, completely helpless to its control. Or did it not change? Maybe it stayed as punctual at his heart beat at that moment. Maybe, in the heat of the moment, in the glorious time of battle, where odds were against him…that was when his heart returned to normalcy. It was when guns were pointed at his head, rivalries bearing down on him, sounds of explosions blaring, the dependency of his soldiers weighing on his mind when his heart jumped back to its stoic, triumphant beat, ready to accept the challenge. Each beat of his spark was a blow to Megatron's face. Each beat was a kick to Starscream's chest. Each beat was another blast firing from his weapons; his body moving with each distinct beat of his spark.

Aulora immediately jerked her stare away from the screen. Did she just spend that whole time obsessing over a robot's heart beat? She felt like a pre-teen fan-girling over the latest boy band. She suppressed a shudder and turned to the medic standing feet from her.

"Hey, Ratchet. Don't Autobots, you know…rust?" she asked.

"Yes, and our metal contains a much higher iron percentage than most of your earthly metal, so we are at a much greater risk of rust compared to a vehicle, so to speak," the medic explained, never once averting his gaze from the screen.

"But isn't that…dangerous?" she asked.

"Of course! That's why I have you monitoring their vitals! It's too dangerous for us to spend a long period of time underwater. Once oxidation sets in, the rust will start to eat away at the protoform beneath their armor, which has higher iron proportions than their armor. Rust on a protoform damages skin permanently, and can cause internal wiring damage, if the rust is able to set in that long," Ratchet explained.

"You know, for pretty advanced technology, you guys sure have a lot of kryptonites," Miko interjected, hands firmly on her hips.

Ratchet scoffed at the teen and returned his steady gaze back to the ever-curious Aulora.

"Arcee and Bumblebee only have about an hour. Arcee's smaller body frame will take a shorter amount of time to oxidize than say Bulkhead's. And Bumblebee, being still relatively young, has a weaker and a more delicate protoform that is more susceptible to rust. Bulkhead only has about a half hour longer," Ratchet explained.

"What about Optimus?" she questioned further.

She heard the medic behind her release a distressed sigh.

"Optimus shouldn't even be out there," Ratchet explained, with obvious frustration.

"Why?"

"Because although a very notable tool, the Matrix of Leadership is a somewhat volatile contraption, and requires an ample amount of Energon to sustain itself. And for every drop of Energon that gets circulated through the Matrix, it releases a small dosage of metal, with traces of iron, that seeps back into Optimus's systems," Ratchet explains.

"So almost like a human respiratory system. We circulate oxygen through our heart and lungs, and then release carbon dioxide," Aulora adds.

"Something like that, yes," Ratchet replied.

"But I don't get it. Doesn't your medical opinion succeed Optimus's orders?" Aulora asked.

"Generally, yes. But I have given up hope in truly drilling into our leader's mind that he can't continually put himself in danger," Ratchet grumbled.

* * *

Optimus continued to trudge along the bottom of the slippery ocean floor, the thick, murky water only penetrated by the Autobots' headlights as they followed their leader. The Autobot leader kept his trained eyes on the dimly-lit ground, his blaster powering up at any movement, to discover it as the local marine life observing the large robots walking through their territory. Given the 'Bots rather large size, it made walking through water all the more difficult, as the current continually served as a push against the team's efforts in making it to the relic before it was too late.

Suddenly, Optimus turned around to the sound of censor alarms going off behind him. He spotted Arcee and Bumblebee eyeing their back struts and wings, where their Autobot symbol began to pulse a bright blue.

"Arcee, Bumblebee, return to base. Ratchet will send a ground bridge to our arrival coordinates," Optimus instructed behind his battle mask, the only thing that was allowing the leader to speak underwater.

Arcee and Bumblebee responded with a silent, firm nod and grabbed each others' hands. They crouched down, and with every piece of remaining strength they had left, the duo jumped off the ground, their arms stretched out to the surface as they swam back.

"We must find the relic before it is time you must return as well," Optimus instructed, glancing down at his last remaining soldier behind him. Bulkhead gave a nod and a thumbs up as the two continued through the slippery darkness.

* * *

Ratchet activated the ground bridge, spinning around to watch for any splash a color among the electric blue and greens. He suddenly spotted Arcee and Bumblebee, the young scout supporting the femme as she gingerly limped into base, her right leg awkwardly angled out to the side to avoid pressure. The medic also noted that the scout was in no better condition. Though his front chest plate and legs seemed to be clear of the oxidation process, his door wings were slowly starting to acquire it, and the way Bumblebee pressed them, hard together warned the medic that he was indeed in pain.

Ratchet powered down the ground bridge and came to the pair's side.

"Arcee, are you ok?" Jack asked urgently.

Raf sprinted down the stairs to his guardian, eyeing him sympathetically.

"Fine," Arcee painfully spat out as Ratchet inspected her knee joint.

Ratchet carefully and expertly wound his arm underneath Arcee's thighs and kept another under her back as he lifted her up into his arms and walked over to the already set-up med bays.

"You too, Bumblebee," Ratchet called back. The scout tentatively followed the medic, assuring his frantic charge bellow him that he was alright.

Aulora spun around to a beeping sound coming from the control panel. She plopped herself down in Raf's seat, with Miko right behind her, and shoved Raf's headphones on.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Aulora, its Bulkhead, requesting a ground bridge," the Wrecker's voice answered.

"Back so soon?" she teased, already punching in the coordinates.

"The water's screwing up my comm link and audio receptors. Optimus was afraid I wouldn't be able to call in if I waited longer," he answered.

Aulora activated the ground bridge. "Alright, Bulkhead. Comin' at yah," she called back.

Miko pressed hard against the railing as she watched her guardian come through, running down the stairs to greet him. Aulora noticed numerous light blue spots that had began to form around the sides of Bulkhead's head. So that's what rust looked like on a Cybertronian. Leave them long enough and they'd looked like a giant Smurf, Aulora mused to herself.

Ratchet briskly sprinted over to Bulkhead, who Aulora also noticed was very wobbly when he walked. While supporting him on one side, the field medic rushed the woozy Wrecker over to another medical bay that was set up for him beside Arcee, who was already recharging, and Bumblebee who sat with his arm resting on his bent knee, Aulora knowing the young Scout was no doubt waiting for his leader.

Aulora turned her head back to the main screen, Optimus vitals now taking up the entire screen. With a new sense of purpose, the young teenager shuffled Raf's ear phones onto her head and over her ears. If Optimus was going to call in, she was going to be there. He was pushing himself, physically and mentally, as the leader, proving that the visible weight of the world crumbling down on his shoulder was nothing he couldn't handle. If not to his team, it was to prove his worth to himself. But Aulora knew that path of solitude, fueled by your complete and utter determination that you were fine by yourself. It was steep and dangerous, and when you did fall, no doubt a horrific and long drop, there was no one there offering a hand. Suddenly, Aulora was completely awestruck by the deep, heart-gripping similarity between the two. Just a second ago, she was trying to push him out of her head. And now…she couldn't feel they could be any closer. It was frightening to feel her heart completely warm to the thought of the Autobot leader, her head melting with overwhelming calmness at his name played across her mind. It felt as if her very soul had known Optimus since her own beginning, as if they had always been…together. Their lives had always kept them on the same path, they could never veer away from each other. She felt so at ease, complete bliss and ecstasy, to know that he was simply there. It was foreboding to say the least, to feel that her very being depended on him, so intertwined they felt, her body almost seem to crave it. As if it was keeping her alive at that very moment. She took a large breath, relieving her deeply frightened and anxious mind out of its daunting epiphany. She could feel her fingers and limbs shaking with crazy static, her nerves dancing on their toes with complete mind-rattling energy. It was an intense feeling, but it quickly faded away, leaving Aulora perturbed, wondering if what she had just felt was real, or simply dream she had drifted off in. She turned back to the main screen, where Optimus's spark beat continued to tap steadily along.

_Optimus shouldn't even be out there. _


	2. Delving Deep

**hi hi hi!**

**here's the next chapter! so how do you like the little spin I put on the discovery of the Polarity Gauntlet? you'll see that kind of manipulation throughout my stories. Like it? Hate it? Leave me a comment. **

**SPOILER ALERT: new OC preview :)**

**Playlist for Delving Deep**

**Somebody Like You: **Keith Urban

**On Top of the World: **Imagine Dragons

**Be Okay: **Oh Honey

**Let It Go: **Demi Lovato

**Hollywood: **Michael Buble

**I'm Not The Only One: **Sam Smith

**Dangerous: **Before You Exit

* * *

The Autobot leader continued his determined, steady plod through the thickly vegetated marine floor, the Polarity Gauntlet secured tightly within his grip, each step slower and more painful than the one before. The intensity of oxidation that had begun to settle atop Optimus's armor was painful, but it's more recent travel along his neck and back, where it had already eaten through his armor to his sensitive protoform was where he could feel the raging fire burn. He had been tempted numerous times to touch those areas, but he firmly pushed the thought away, knowing the confirmed truth would simply hasten his speed to the ground bridge coordinates, and with such a strong current against him, the most fruitless idea was to go and burn the Energon that he so desperately needed to take. He continued to push his aching joints through the dark, murky water, his movement alone occurring from pure, mechanical instinct; an instinct that had been brutally drilled into his mind moments after facing the treacheries of the battle field.

He could feel his exhausted body sigh with relief as he finally came upon the end of his submerged mission. At this point, he was required to make it to the surface, where he would rendezvous at a small collection of cliff rocks, just off the shore, and Ratchet would send for a ground bridge.

The Autobot leader grumbled quietly in pain as at the movement of bending down to spring forth from the ocean floor caused enough strain on his weakened and exposed leg wiring to buckle beneath the sudden advance. He quickly pushed the irritation aside and pushed off from the ground, letting his momentum carry him through the water as far as it could take him, dreading the moment when he would eventually have to start swimming.

The Last Prime continued to soar through the water, his optics adjusting to the very subtle change in lighting, the sunlight still hundreds of feet above his head. But with each passing second, he drew closer and closer still, watching as the water around him slowly began brightening to a warmer shade of blue. He was intrigued by the feeling of the water glistening and gliding alongside his armor, almost as if he wasn't really touching the substance at all, but it was simply a force that was carrying the Autobot along. The only source of hydrogen dioxide on Cybertron, Optimus thought to himself, was found in the very rare climactic storms Cybertron would experience every now and then, and even then all mechs and femmes were instructed to stay indoors, due to the eminent danger of rusting. If only they could see him now.

As the large Autobot neared the surface, his legs instinctively beginning to kick his body upward as he felt himself slowing down, he squinted to observe a large, shadowy mass that had settled off in the distance to his left. He immediately recognized it as a marine vessel of some sort, observing its intriguing buoyancy upon the sea's surface. He automatically began to slow his pace, waiting patiently for the vessel to pass before continuing on to the surface, knowing the probability of being spotted by a human had now increased.

But as the large ship continued towards him, the young mech slowly began to realize that he had greatly underestimated the size of the large craft, its submerged bottom appearing to extend for miles. And Optimus also discovered that he also underestimated the speed at which the ship was traveling, but he uncovered the fact too late.

Suddenly, the boat was nearing him, and he could slowly feel the current the ship's engine was creating pull his worn-out body closer to it. He frantically grabbed at the slippery substance surrounding him, but the waves offered him no help, as he found himself being sucked into the strong current. He turned around to find himself veering straight towards a spinning propeller that was attached to the ship's rear. He crossed his arms in front of his face as he braced for impact.

He yelled in surprise and agony as one of the blades collided, heavily into his back, shoving the pained Autobot back towards the ocean's floor. As Optimus's blurry vision slowly focused back to his surroundings, the intense pain in his back preventing him from completely drifting off into stasis, he scrunched his optics in confusion at the flickering, orange-like bubble that had formed around him. He looked down at his vibrating hand to find the Polarity Gauntlet humming with life. He reeled back as the generated force field expanded and exploded, leaving the Prime pondering the very suspicious silence following. However, what the mech sadly did not notice during the brief period was that the Gauntlet had attracted a loose anchor, buried and settled heavily beneath the ocean floor, and was sending it spiraling towards the still oblivious leader.

Optimus's optics suddenly widened in anguish as the silent anchor struck itself deep within his leg, its right fluke stabbing him directly through his thigh and knee joint, mercilessly ripping through his internal wiring. The Cybertronian watched helplessly as his bright, blue Energon began swirling around in the water, eventually clouding his entire line of vision, as the heavy weight of the embedded anchor miserly pulled the weak mech back to its dark depths.

* * *

"Ratchet, come here…now!"

The Autobot medic slowly peered up from his crouch, his welders delicately mending Arcee's torn knee joint, the rust eating away at its outer plating, to look up at the sound of Aulora's frantic voice. He was about to reprimand the young human, exploding into another rant towards the teenagers that he was not to be disrupted during such a sensitive operation, when he suddenly remembered the task he had bestowed upon Aulora; guard Optimus's vitals.

He gently laid aside the powered-down tools and rushed over to the main control screen. Aulora turned to him, eyes wide with fear, as she frantically pointed to Optimus's signal details.

"His Energon readings have completely dropped and his spark rate his slowing down!" she exclaimed, fear rising into her pale blue eyes.

The field medic desperately scanned the screen.

"He's losing Energon too fast. The rising pressure levels on his outer armor suggests he's drowning, indicating he's too weak to make it back up to the surface," Ratchet explained, his eyes still glued on the screen.

"Can't you just send him a bridge to his current coordinates?" Aulora asked, desperately.

"And open up a direct pathway from the ocean to our base!? This whole place would be submerged in mere seconds!" the medic scoffed. "I have to go get him," Ratchet stated.

"But you're the only one who can stop the oxidation process," Aulora added, turning to look at the tired teammates sprawled out on their medical berths.

"We don't have any other options!" Ratchet exclaimed to Aulora.

"What if_ I_ could go get Optimus?" Aulora suddenly asked, her face lighting up with brilliant realization.

"Oh, and how, pray tell, will you possibly manage to carry a seven ton Autobot back to the surface!" Ratchet threw at the young teenager.

With unstoppable determination burning through her, Aulora turned to Raf, sitting feet from her, scanning over his laptop.

"Raf, are there any large shipping vessels entering Fremantle Port, Australia in the next 60 minutes?" Aulora called over to him.

Raf nodded his head and quickly whipped back to his laptop, his small fingers ferociously flying across the keyboard.

"Freight SDN 178 will be entering Fremantle Port in approximately 57 minutes," Raf answered, turning back around in his swivel chair to Aulora and Ratchet.

"Meaning it still has a little while before it reaches Optimus," Aulora calculated, her eyes rigid with fortitude, looking back up at the medic.

He was seconds from scolding Aulora for wasting his time with pointless information, when his body suddenly paused, his mouth and eyes widening as he slowly turned back to the human, finally realizing what the teenager could possibly have on her mind.

"No…no, no, no! Are you suggesting that we allow a human ship to carry Optimus!? What if we are seen!?" he exclaimed.

"The shipping freight only has security cameras on deck and the only crew members are the captain," Raf added.

"They're watching activity _on_ the ship, not below it," Aulora firmly stated, looking back at the field medic.

"And what happens when Optimus does make it to the port!? HMM!? A human vessel would not be foolish enough to venture near rocks, which is the only thing that will offer him solid cover!" Ratchet challenged.

"Optimus wouldn't have to make it directly to the port. There's a small, unoccupied piece of land on the western coast. It's too small to be labeled as an island, but it's large enough to send a ground bridge to," Raf said, turning back to his screen.

"And," he added, throwing the freight's path to Australia's port up on the overhead screen, "Freight SDN 178 will be conveniently passing by it," Raf added.

Both kids crossed their arms across their chests, accomplished, turning back to the thinking Autobot.

* * *

The large, firm and almost invincible vessel, sliced through the now calm waves of the Indian Ocean, its rusty, red sides glistening in the sun with beads of splashed water. The top deck was empty, at the moment, most of its open area filled with large crates with imported goods from its numerous stops along India and Africa's coast. What it didn't expect were two pieces of American cargo, that had nestled themselves deep within the dark shadows of the looming crates, crouched down to the ground, their backs pressed hard against its metal wall.

"Come on, Raf. Hurry up," Jack pleaded to himself.

"If we wait any longer, we won't be able pick up Optimus in time to make it to the island," Aulora added in a hushed tone.

Raf's voice quickly filled their ears seconds after Aulora's comment "We're in. Freezing all external cameras…now. All systems are a go," he instructed the two through their ear pieces.

The two teenagers quickly slipped out from behind the crates, Jack pressing his fingers harder against the ear piece.

"Alright, Raf. Lay it out," he responded.

"There should be drum winches to the left of you. Head to those," Raf instructed.

"Wait, what's a drum winch?" Jack asked.

Aulora rolled her eyes and smiled, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the stern of the vessel.

"Come on Mr. Fishing Man," she mused.

The two reached the back, staring up at 6 large pulley systems, wrapped wound with fishing nests.

"Oh," Jack replied.

"The one all the way to the right should have strong cables instead of fishing nets," Raf informed. "Aulora, there's a small compartment on the deck off to the left of the first drum winch. In there, you should find spare scuba gear. You guys need to hurry. They're only stopped for about a half an hour to fix a little electrical problem I programmed."

"Thanks Raf," Aulora responded, already spotting the slightly, higher panel jutting out from the deck's surface.

"Wait…scuba gear!? Why do you get to go swimming?" he asked.

"_You_ know how to scuba dive?" Aulora asked, pulling out a wet suit, flippers, goggles and an oxygen tank equipped with a mask.

"You do!?" Jack asked, still confused.

"Yes," Aulora stated matter-of-factly.

Jack watched, helpless as his cheeks grew hot to the touch as Aulora quickly stripped out off her outer clothes to reveal a small, Nike one piece, stunningly curving with her body, seemingly forgetting he was behind her.

"So, uhmm…what's, umm, the plan once we get you down there?" Jack asked, slowly clearing his throat of blockage his burning cheeks seemed to build.

"I'll travel down to Optimus with the cable. I'll swim back up and then we'll slowly pull him up. Thankfully, the winch is automatic so we don't have to manually haul him up. Once the vessel gets close enough to the island, we'll jump off with Optimus, and Ratchet will have a ground bridge right on its neighboring sand bar, so we don't have to make Optimus swim all the way out to the island," Aulora explained, expertly shimming her body into the skin tight wet suit. She walked over to the edge of the boat, her feet dangling over the water as she slipped into her flippers.

"Alright. Now let's just hope the limited crew doesn't decide to make a guest appearance," Jack said, turning back to look at the doors lining the opposite wall.

"You'll be fine, Jack. If you need back up, just call Miko," Aulora informed, slipping her arms through the oxygen pack straps and slipping the mask over her head.

"And who's going to be Miko's back-up?" Jack smirked.

"I heard that, Jack Rabbit," Miko sounded through his ear piece.

Aulora smiled at Miko's statement, finally pulling her goggles over her eyes and turning back to Jack, throwing him a thumbs up. And before he could through another one back to her, she gracefully slid off the side off the ship. Jack rushed to the edge, watching as Aulora's pencil dive beautifully sliced through the water. She popped her head back through the surface and waited as Jack slowly released the cable. Aulora swam back as the large metal hook slapped the water in front of her. She grabbed the rusted metal in her hand and turned back up at the peering teen.

"Good luck," he called down.

She gave a firm nod as she dived back into the water, the tips of her flippers the last thing Jack saw as she slipped under the waves, down to their helpless leader.

* * *

He wasn't drowning anymore. For that he was eternally grateful. But success never came without a price. Instead of letting the anchor pull him down, he was pulling himself up, the of gravity acting against his leg. He gridded his denta together every time he felt another wire rip and snap beneath the anchor's weight, a strong pulse of agony coursing through his leg, immediately followed by a dull numbness. It was slowly slicing its way through his shin, already having passed through his lower thigh and knee joint, the most painful of the anchor's excursion, and was now making its way through his thigh, where, hopefully, his thicker armor plating would slow its progression to his foot, where he knew he wouldn't be able to stop it from completely slicing straight through his pede's sensitive wiring and sinking back down to the bottom of the ocean. Then again, he wouldn't feel it's slow, agonizing torture anymore. The rust that was now growing rapidly not only all across his body, but inside of his open wound, was just simply a nuisance now. The Energon that had clouded the water around him moments before had now dissipated, and simply seeped into the water through spurts, each one occurring soon after the anchor sliced though another piece of internal wiring.

His horribly blurry vision soon found a small shape growing nearer with every second. He started to panic. What did he possess to fend this possibly large creature off? The rust had spread all across his arms, making it nearly impossible to completely transform them into his swords or blasters. Swimming away was clearly not an option, being that his weak arms were the only thing allowing him to simply tread water at that moment. He was at a lost, at the mercy of whatever large creature inhabited the waters. He had not learned much of Earth's marine life since arriving on the planet, but his CPU reminded him that 75% of the Earth was covered with water. Such large quantities of liquid allowed the immense growth, in size, of such marine life. Growth that could cause a problem for the still fairly large Cybertronian.

However, as the creature continued swimming towards him, he found it had 4 separate limbs, unlike the bountiful schools of fish that continually swam by him, which possessed only two side struts. This creature started to appear more and more…like a human. And when it had finally made it close enough for Optimus to touch it, his hazy vision recognized its golden brown hair and piercing blue eyes…it was Aulora.

Optimus's eyes widened as he beheld the small teen, as she gave a small wave to the Autobot leader. He also seemed to notice a hesitation. She stayed a few yards from him, treading water in front of him, never indicating that she was coming any closer. And at such a close distance, Optimus could feel hints of fear that seemed to leak from her body and seep deep into his spark. It was such raw confusion and terror that he almost didn't blame the human for coming any closer. But he was a leader. And one thing he could not allow was fear of him. That was one thing he had made sure, every cycle back on Cybertron, to not occur among his troops. He was not going to create a fearful command over his team. Respect, yes. But once that respect started to occur from complete and utter apprehension towards him, he had to put a stop to it. He looked right at her, his dizzy mind trying desperately to focus on her eyes as he gave her a firm nod, trying to show the small human that he did not, and never would, mean harm. He knew she feared him, though she feared their new telepathy more, and it was time to erase that threshold. It was time to overcome that fear.

He watched as she ever so slowly approached him, the fear that was in her mind slowly ebbing away, replaced by mild caution and concern, and to his amusement, her ever present curiosity. Her searching eyes immediately found the pierced anchor, and she swam down towards it. She looked back up at the Prime to watch his eyes as she slowly inspected the wound, watching as his optics scrunched in pain every once in a while. It was then that Optimus realized she was carrying a large hook, attached to a thick cable that seemed to extend all the way up to the surface.

She swam back in front of his face and stretched out her arm with the hook in it. How was she going to tell him what to do? His comm link was clearly too overrun with rust to answer Ratchet's call and his fluttering optic lids suggested his vision wasn't going to see her hand movements. So then what? Her eyes widened in alarm and her heart squirmed with panic as one single thought came to her mind.

Mind language.

No, she couldn't. She wouldn't. But looking back at Optimus's poor state, she not only needed to fill him in on the plan; she needed to wake him up out of his dazed attention to focus on the problem at hand. His senses seemed to be numb with pain, and she needed to make sure he was well enough to hold onto the cable and not let go. But how!? She didn't know how the stupid thing worked! Everything that had happened so far was by accident. She couldn't control any of it, even if she wanted to. And she didn't want to! The last thing she wanted to do was to sneak back into his mind and go through another tremor of flashbacks. But she was wasting time. She had about 10 more minutes before the ship would start moving again, and they'll have lost their chance.

She took a deep breath, and let the soft, ticklish bubbles squirm around her nose. She closed her eyes and thought. How did this work. She was able to read his mind when she was asleep. So maybe pretend she was asleep? She slowly relaxed her body and let her mind settle comfortably into her brain. Calm. Nothing but calm. She was about to grumble to herself, slapping herself for wasting time like this, when something faint suddenly flickered across her mind. It greatly surprised her, and at first she reeled back, but when the flicker returned, she felt her mind warm with ease under its touch. It felt fuzzy and tender, so gentle. With an ever so cautious touch she reached out to it, and let it ooze around her like slippery, affectionate honey. She felt like her mind was swimming in complete protection, and it finally dawned on her that that was Optimus's mind in hers. Its natural presence. She could feel Optimus's surprise from her mind in his, but with great gentleness, she tried to push reassurance through to him, to tell him it was her. And then she concentrated; hard.

_Optimus, we don't have much time, so please listen carefully. This cable in my hand is attached to a shipping vessel above us. Jack and I will slowly pull you up to the surface, where Ratchet will have a ground bridge waiting for us at a passing sand bar. I don't mean to be rude, Optimus, but I need you to wake up and hold on tightly. _

The leader stared wide-eyed up at the teenager, who weakly opened her eyes back open to her surroundings, gingerly rubbing her now aching head.

He couldn't believe it.

She had done it.

She had sent him a mental message.

He looked over to her still outstretched hand and took the cable's hook from her and firmly nodded his head that he understood the task.

Her eyes smiled back at him, as she kindly saluted to him and turned around back up to the surface, her flippers fluttering away back into the blue.

* * *

Jack gazed over the side of the ship once more, the anxiousness in his stomach growing heavier as his eyes were met with a still undisturbed surface. He returned to his pacing, stopping every few feet to turn back in the other direction and repeat the process. What was taking so long? He shouldn't have let Aulora travel down there alone. But what could he have done? The only thing he knew about swimming was the basic doggie-paddle, which he was brutally forced to learn at the age of 7 after his uncle threw him dozens of times into his cousins' pool with nothing but a bar-bell. He didn't know a thing about scuba diving, other than the fact that there was more to it than just doggie-paddling.

"Jack, has Aulora returned yet?" Ratchet asked through Jack's ear piece.

The teen sighed, ready to explain to Ratchet, for the gazillionth time that Aulora wasn't back yet, when a small dark splash of movement flickered beneath the surface, feet from the submerged cable.

"Hold on a sec, Ratchet," he responded, his eyes latched on the waters.

The teen's face suddenly lit up with relief as he watched small hands break through the surface's barrier and grab the cable, followed by Aulora's head and shoulders.

"She's here, Ratchet. She made it," Jack confirmed.

And off to his right, he could hear the roar of the freight's engine as it sprung to life, and almost lost his balance as it began to cruise through the waves once more. He turned down to Aulora who was still latched onto the cable. He kneeled down and craned his head over the side.

"How's Optimus holding up?" he yelled down.

"He's pretty drained, but once we get him back to Ratchet he'll be ok. I just hope he's strong enough to hold onto the cable," she yelled back up to him, ripping her goggles off of her head and letting them dangle around her neck, as the freight glided along the calm waves of the Indian Ocean.

* * *

**-first intentional interaction: though my head was slightly achy afterwards, the occurrence itself was rather easy. It seemed natural, like I had always known how to do it. Entering into Optimus's mind was an interesting feat. Upon initial entering, it felt like-**

Aulora's head whipped up from her notebook folded neatly in her lap to look around her backyard once more. She had done this almost every second she returned home that afternoon. Almost immediately after she got off of Arcee, she had this nagging feeling of something breathing down her neck, the little prickly goose-bumps raging across her arms and neck. She felt like someone's eyes were on her, even after she was safely locked away in her little condo. She double checked every shadow, and every noise, before unsettlingly climbing into the nice, warm shower and rinsing the salt water out of her hair. After slowly and anxiously eating her bowl of cereal, she pushed aside the screen door, letting the frigid night winter wind bellow across her large hoodie and sweatpants and plopped herself down on her patio, looking out to the darkness with a glaring fix, daring the unseen peeper to step out into the light. What was unsettling, though, was that she had had this feeling before. On the small trek from Bulkhead to the front door of her school, or on the walk from Arcee into the grocery store, the feeling seem to return and then disappear once she was out of immediate sight. It was the strangest feeling, and now, she was just annoyed.

She squinted her eyes back out onto her yard, her outside lights only illuminating a small portion of her yard. She felt herself daring the nosy stalker in her mind, pleading with it to come closer just so she could whip out her cell phone and call the police. Because now…now she was just irritated.

* * *

Bulkhead looked down at the scanner once more, confirming the small, flickering dot was still there.

"Where is it?" Bumblebee bleeped, turning his head in every direction.

"It should be just around the corner," Bulkhead answered, pushing his way through the tall brush and coming out around the corner of a tall boulder.

After their repairs had been made, Ratchet's steady and diligent work on Optimus had been interrupted by a located escape pod who's emergency beacon had just been activated in the outskirts of a small town in Wisconsin. Being that Arcee was instructed to stay off of her knee for a little while, Bumblebee and Bulkhead's already recovering forms were sent out to investigate.

"Bulk, over there," Bumblebee said, pointing to a medium sized pod that had been buried amongst the thick vegetation.

Both Autobots instinctively activated their blasters and cautiously approached the ship. Once Bulkhead was within feet of the pod, he transformed his left blaster back into his hand and brushed away the pile of broken branches that had cluttered the door of the ship. The door of the pod bore the Decepticon symbol, but its head antennas were extended higher and its empty optic sockets had been filled with black, chipped paint. Below it were 3 words. Though neither Bulkhead nor Bumblebee were able to read the ancient Cybertronian writing, the too familiar symbol was indicator enough.

"The Decepticon Justice Division," Bumblebee said out loud. He could hear the Wrecker shudder beside him.

"I thought those guys were just ol' Miners' tales," Bulkhead said.

"I knew a bot that had defected to the Autobots sometime during the war. He went out on a solo mission to Vos to retrieve an intel disk from a group Optimus had stationed there to help evacuate the Neutrals. When no one heard back from him, I was sent out with a few others to find him. We found his body in an abandoned factory. His spark, voice box and optics had been ripped straight out of his body and someone had painted the word "traitor" on his chassis along with that symbol," Bumblebee explained, weakly nodding to the door panel, his first memories of the war returning to his mind.

"So why would they have an escape pod? If those tales were right, all these guys love to do was torture," Bulkhead asked.

"It was probably from their ship, the Peaceful Tyranny," Bumblebee beeped.

"So one of them could be on Earth? Right now!?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"No, they all kicked the dust towards the end of the war. We had a mole within their ranks, who sent them fake intel of a rogue Decepticon. This was towards the end of the war, so they were pretty over-confident. We lured them into an Energon mine and blew the roof off the place. No one walked out of there," the young scout explained, peering around the pod's sides for any signs of escape.

"So we're looking at an escaped prisoner," Bulkhead commented, following the scout's idea.

"I don't know. Probably," he beeped. His eyes suddenly flew open, as he motioned Bulkhead to the pod's backside. The two Autobots stared at a large, gaping hole.

"Bet yah that's how he got out," Bumblebee said, chortling when he spied Bulkhead's "no kidding" expression.

"Yeah, but look at the edges. They look like…claw marks," Bulkhead said.

"What in the world were they holding?" Bumblebee asked.

The Wrecker shrugged, already comming in to Ratchet, explaining their findings. Or rather their lack of.

* * *

Aulora slammed her eyelids shut with frustration, slammed her notebook onto the patio and stood up from the ground.

"Alright, that's it! No more peek-a-boo games," she called out to the still darkness.

"I promise I won't call the police," she added a little calmer, fairly confident it was simply a boy from school.

A small movement zipped across the edge of the illuminated patio and Aulora's head whipped around to meet it.

"Come on. Just come out," she said, almost pleading with the unseen force.

She gasped and watched fascinated as the flickering shadow now came back to the light, but stopped. Slowly, more pieces of shadow whished over to the stationary shadow, twirling in a steady circle. Aulora quickly backed away from the spectacle, but tripped over a raised rock and fell on her butt. She stared up in fear as the group of shadows grew taller, slowly filling in the shape of a creature. And like a wave of paint brush, the shadows glided over its body, giving the creature color and texture, the empty holes filling in with hard edges and curves, it's skin dipping and gripping into sharp shapes and forms across its body. Aulora stared up wide eyed at the thing before. It seemed to have the body of a tiger, but it was clearly larger than an Earth one. On all four legs, it was easily her height, its long tail also probably the length of her body. It had two, large yellow glimmering eyes that glared down at her with…suspicion. And taking another look at its sleek body texture, another thought hit her.

It was Cybertronian.

She was slowly starting to her feet, when the creature gave a heart-wrenching growl and stepped closer to her, its razor-like claws grating against the stone beneath its feet, and she retreated back to the ground.

"That would not be a wise decision. It would also be a sensible choice to avoid contacting your Autobot allies," he instructed, his voice rumbling with the force of an earthquake, deep and commanding.

Aulora almost chuckled to herself.

Why couldn't it have been a Peeping Tom?

* * *

**so guess what!? for those of you who haven't heard the news, hasbro has already released the trailer of transformers: robots in disguise, for 2015, which is the the next kind of installment for transformers prime! *shuts bedroom door and screams like a little girl* apparently they wanted to continue the series but kind of play down the violence a little bit. Do you like it? Hate it? Leave me comments. Also check out transformers rescue bots season 3 trailer. is it just me or is everyone jumping on the transformer dinosaur band wagon?**


	3. Lost Soul

**hi hi hi!**

**so here's the next chapter! hope you enjoy! and please feel free to leave comments. its nice to see what you guys are thinking (not to sound creepy) :)**

**Playlist for "Lost Soul"**

**Neil Diamond: Best Years of Our Lives**

**Taylor Swift: 22**

**One Direction: Diana (very fitting for this chapter if i do say so myself) :)**

**Get Off of My Back: Bryan Adams**

**Better in Stereo: Dove Cameron**

**Lose Yourself: Eminem (little explicit)**

**Midnight Red: Take Me Home**

**Newsboys: God's Not Dead**

* * *

She could hear her heavy breathing, her heart bracing against her rib cage, trying desperately to break through and escape somewhere safe, because the menacing yellow optics that were staring at her held mixed emotions of either complete hatred or blood-thirsty hunger. But his threatening, looming body was warning enough that one small move was a deadly decision.

Though every nerve and instinct screamed at her to high-tail it out of there, her curious eyes couldn't help but completely stumble in awe at the beauty of his form. His rather large powerful body continued to tickle with the shadows the creature seemed to appear from, his metal armor seem to waver with catches of light and blankets of darkness, much like the glimmering shadows that seemed to breathe straight from his body. Above each of his paws were 4 small struts that expanded at an upward angle, the underneath of his tail also licked with the same design. His metal body wasn't smooth and straight like the other Autobots. Like a rib cage, there were thick jagged pieces of metal, evenly spaced between each other by a subtle dip in his armor, giving the creature the appearance as if he actually had the stripes of a tiger. Suddenly, Aulora's eyes spotted a disturbance in his "stripes"; there was a rather large hole in his side, where Energon began to slowly trickle down from it, splashing against her patio. How had she not noticed that before? Of course, the begging question if Cybertronians could actually eat meat was pretty much where she held her main concern. She turned back up to the creature's captivating eyes once more.

"You're hurt," she commented. She internally slapped her head. She had not just asked that, did she? The creature was clearly compelled to rip every limb from her body and she had the tenacity to ask about its well-being. She didn't know if that took guts, or complete stupidity.

He scoffed. "That is not of your concern," he grumbled, every hair on Aulora's body standing on end, completely moved once again by his gut-wrenching voice.

"But I can help you. I know someone-"

"Was I not clear!? There is to be no contact made with the Autobots!" he exclaimed, leaping forward, his legs landing by Aulora's side, his head inches from hers, baring his teeth with every word that grumbled through his throat.

Aulora skeptically studied his eyes once more. His eyes looked like they were losing their hold on its stable confidence, as they squirmed with irritation. He was afraid. But of what? It clearly wasn't her. So then the Autobots. Is that why he didn't want her contacting them? It's not that he didn't need them interfering with whatever plans he had for her. He was scared of them. But why?

"They won't hurt you, yah know," she calmly reassured.

"How are you so sure!" he bellowed at her. "I deserve death for the sins I have committed!" he screamed into her face, his voice echoing throughout her frigid body, his eyes helplessly withering in complete and utter fear. She could see his form slowly shaking with fatigue.

"No one deserves death. No matter what they did," she said, trying to make eye contact with him.

"A foolish belief only pure of heart would contort," he grumbled cruelly, his vicious teeth inches from her face, though she knew his hatred-soaked words were directed more to himself than her. She pitied the creature before her. His was lost soul, plagued with darkness.

"No one deserves pain when we have the ability to forgive," she replied. "And I know you believe in forgiveness after what you just did," she added.

His trailing gaze whipped with deadly speed back to hers, his eyes scrunching with deep, mutated anger, as he released a heart-stopping growl from deep within his stomach.

"What do you mean!?" he demanded. She noticed that as he tried to menacingly stomp his paws on the ground, his left hind leg slipped weakly beneath the force, and simply hung limp above the ground.

"You were afraid of the Autobots. You didn't want them to find you. And yet you revealed yourself to me after I simply asked you to. You want to be forgiven, you just don't think you can be," she explained.

His eyes widened with shock as he let her words sink, and then he began furiously shaking his head, as if that would rid his head of such thoughts, as he slowly stepped back from his attack pose over the small human.

"What's your name?" Aulora asked, quietly. She needed to gain his trust.

He slowly cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out if the tiny organic before him truly possessed such foolishness to begin conversation with a beast that could rip her apart like a cleanly sheathed sword. Her eyes, though still strangled by the familiar stench of fear, encompassed a deep coursing flow of…compassion; of love. She seem to look at him with complete sympathy, her eyes filled with such pure gentleness, he began to squirm with insecurity beneath them and turned his eyes away.

"For the crimes I have committed against Cybertron, I have been branded with the title of Proditor," he snarled to the young human, the tips of his lips curling with viciousness.

"Proditor, Latin for traitor," she said out loud to herself. She turned her gaze back up to the creature, his body still looming over half of her body.

"Well, my name is Aulora," she quietly responded. His eyes never left their gaze on the ground, but his ears delicately twitched with every word she said.

* * *

"Well, it's been a long day," Arcee said, smiling as she lazily stretched out her arms and plopped herself down on a nearby container.

"Ain't that the truth," Bumblebee tiredly beeped, practically collapsing onto the ground, gently leaning his still sore door wings against Arcee's container.

"How's the boss doing?" Bulkhead asked Ratchet, resting his fatigued body against the raised ground level.

"I placed him into a medically induced stasis so I could effectively treat his leg and back. He'll awaken from it shortly," the medic replied, peering over at his resting leader before returning his gaze back to the computer screen.

"If it wasn't for Aulora, he might still be at the bottom of the ocean," Arcee commented, the gravity of her statement terrifying the Autobots that their leader had been so defenseless and with no promise of substantial back-up.

"We are certainly fortunate her plan was effective as it was. I would've been capable of retrieving Optimus, but it would've come with the cost of extensive damage to your bodies," Ratchet replied from his stance.

His eyes turned back up to the screen, as his eyes scrunched, a sudden though coursing through his head. He quickly pushed aside his latest project on the computer screen and began typing in a batch of numbers.

"Ratchet, what are you doing?" Arcee asked, looking on with confusion.

"I just wish to check in with Aulora. She was too stubborn to stick around and allow me to watch her vitals, so a quick phone call should ease my suspicions of possible viral hydrate diseases or lung failure," he responded.

The young scout could not help but smile and roll his eyes at the quite anxious doctor, knowing his suspicions were never truly satisfied.

* * *

She watched anxiously as the large creature continued to pace in front of her, each loop around slower than the last, as his depleted Energon reserves started taking its toll. The blue, sticky substance continued to ooze across every patio tile, completely covering the ground in a beautiful, glimmering azure. He needed help. And fast. She was surprised he had lasted so long with such little Energon. Though his currently weak state indicated that he was not far from collapsing, he kept shaking his head, as if trying to ward off the spell of sleep itself. She needed to call Ratchet, or any of the other Autobots in general. But how could she without Proditor seeing. His agitation grew with every drop of Energon that fell to the ground below it, and contacting the very people he told her not to didn't seem like the wisest of decisions.

What she wanted to know was what exactly his motive was. Judging by his injuries, she assumed he crashed landed. So it was easy to also assume that all of those times she felt someone was spying on her, it was Proditor watching her. But why _her_ in particular? Sure, he was going to follow any possible allies of the Autobots, but that still left Jack, Miko and Raf. What did she have that they didn't? Until the thought suddenly occurred to her; she _lacked_ a guardian. All of the others had an Autobot that watched over them day in and day out. He would've been immediately sniffed out and dealt with if he had stalked any of the others. But a human without a guardian, who comes home to an empty house every night-she was the ultimate target. She was every kidnapper's Christmas wish. Would Proditor kidnap her? Probably not, being that he would've done so about an hour ago. So then he was holding her hostage. But for what purpose? If he was looking for a ransom or simply the Autobot's attention, he wouldn't have waited so long, especially considering the condition he was in. The smart thing to have done was to take her hostage and as a reward for her safe return home, he would be granted medical attention from Ratchet. Boom. From what she heard, Starscream had already pulled that trick off a little while ago, so it could be done. But Proditor didn't seem the Decepticon type. If anything, he seemed like an enraged neutral. A desperate soul caught up in the webs of war. He didn't seem like he held any specific allegiance to anybody.

Of course, in a sense, neither did Starscream, though he was second lieutenant to Megatron. But something about Proditor was different. Aside from the fact that he was the first Cybertronian…animal she had ever seen, being the fact she never knew Cybertron had animals, there was something about him that made her want to scratch her mind free of a growing itch. She couldn't put a finger on it, but it seemed almost her instinct telling her that he was…safe. That _she_ was safe. Of course another glance at his hand-sized claws and very cleanly cut teeth warned the girl that her spidey-sense should be blaring horns right now. And he believed he deserved death for the "sins he committed"?! Why was she not completely freaking out!? Sure her heart was having a spasm right now, and her nerves were fried with fear. But she felt that way on the top of Ferris wheel; mild anxiety. The kind of mild anxiety you get when you're handed a test you completely forgot to study for, or you can't seem to find your phone. Proditor wasn't a bombed history test of a lost iPhone. He was a flippin' car-sized, distressed robotic tiger who had a mind of its own!

Suddenly she felt her heart clamp shut and fall like rock in the pit of her stomach as MKTO's "Classic" echoed across the patio. With horrific speed, Proditor thrashed his head towards her.

"What is that noise!?" he yelled, his eyes scrunching into deadly daggers.

She reached into her hoodie's large front pocket and held her phone out to him to see. He rushed over to it, peering at the flashing screen and upon reading the caller id, whipped his head back and released a terrifying roar into the night sky. Aulora peered down at the relatively close neighbors. Was everyone a sound sleeper?

"I warned you to have no contact with your Autobot allies!" he roared, his eyes tearing her apart.

"I didn't. It's probably just Ratchet checking up on me," she responded.

"I don't care! Do not answer him!" he shouted.

"But if I don't pick up, he's going to get suspicious and drive down here to check up on me," she answered. Wait a minute, she thought to herself. Did she just help him out!? Why did she even open her mouth!? She could've just let the phone ring, and in less than 10 minutes have Ratchet and no doubt the rest of the other Autobots on her doorstep. How could she have been so stupid!?

He watched her warily, his eyes glaring with suspicion. Though the child before did have logic within her reasoning, there had to be another motive in her statement. Who would help him out? The answer was no one, and it wasn't about to stop with the small native life form before him. But he had observed how protective the Autobots had been with the humans, and he knew that an unanswered call would certainly draw attention. He reluctantly nodded. He watched as she hesitantly opened her phone.

"Aulora?"

"Hey, Ratchet," she answered.

"Why weren't you picking up the phone? Are you alright?"

Aulora couldn't help but smile. Nothing got by that medic.

"Uh, yeah Ratchet. I was just doing some laundry, sorry," she answered.

"Very well. I was just inquiring about an update of your well being, nothing more," he responded.

"I'm fine, Ratchet, really. But thank you for check in."

"No abnormal exhalation patterns or any signs of an irregular circulatory system configuration?" he asked.

"No, nothing out of the ordinary. I do appreciate the concern."

"Yes, yes, yes. Expect a follow up call at approximately 10 o'clock PM, and then I expect that when Rafael and Bumblebee stop by tomorrow morning you are still in bed. After all that has occurred this week, I expect you to be getting plenty of rest," he responded.

"I will. Hey Ratchet?"she asked.

"Yes, Aulora."

"You should probably check the distributor hub on the ground bridge controls. It sounded off this morning," Aulora responded.

"Very well. Ratchet, out."

She closed the phone and looked up at the expectant eyes of the beast before her. This was it. She needed to make sure everything went according to plan. She needed to stall.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked.

He waited silently for her to continue, the corners of his mouth already curling into a growl.

"You can't just keep me prisoner here forever. You'll either collapse from your injuries or the Autobots will come, guns-a-blazing, looking for me," she explained, keeping her voice soft and calm.

The creature was suddenly on top of her, his yellow eyes mere inches from hers, as she felt his warm, rigid breath scratch against her cheeks.

"I would advise you to stay quiet!" he bellowed, the last word escaping in almost a whisper as his entire left side crumpled and his body gave out, as the large creature collapsed in a heap.

"Proditor!" Aulora screamed, scrambling on her hands and knees over to his side. She gently laid her hands upon his extremely cold body, as his entire form began shaking violently, his eyes trained limply on the ground.

"Proditor, can you hear me? I think you're going into shock. I need to stop the bleeding," she explained, already slipping off her hoodie and pressing it hard against the gaping hole in his side. His eyes turned weakly up to her, but he made no move to stop her, his world spinning and his movements numb.

Aulora could feel chilly tears rushing down her face and over her chin, as she watched the still violently trembling beast before her. She watched as his leaking Energon was already starting to stain the edges of her hoodie, and Proditor eyes seemed to simultaneously being to flutter and close.

"Come on, Proditor. Please stay with me!" she called out to him, his body slowly easing into an almost empty and hollow unconsciousness.

Her eyes turned to the exhale of a great gust of wind, her backyard lighting up with the beautiful electric waves of the ground bridge. She watched as Bumblebee and Arcee flew out, their guns loaded as they searched the area for threats, their eyes finally falling upon Aulora. Ratchet was the last to exit, walking out of the ground bridge to behold the small, battered and exhausted teen, clamping a rather soaked cloth of some sort upon the gaping wound of a…

"By the Allspark," Ratchet gasped, eyes widening as they fell upon the fallen creature.

"Ratchet, is that who I think it is?" Arcee asked, her eyes trained warily on the large beast, the defenseless human huddled next to him.

"Aulora, are you well enough to stand?" Ratchet asked urgently, Arcee and Bumblebee nodding their heads in unison at the medic's plan. The small teenager slowly nodded her head.

"Very good. I need you to slowly back away from him. Take it nice and easy, no sudden movements," he instructed calmly, Arcee's legs already twitching.

The young human was about to argue that he was unconscious, and there was no need to fear him, but she followed the field medic's instructions. She took one last pitiful look towards the creature's cold, almost lifeless body and slowly slid her legs out and pushed herself quietly and slowly away from the beast. With lightening speed, Arcee swooped in and grabbed Aulora from the ground, holding her close to her chassis as Bumblebee simultaneously jumped right up to the lying beast, his guns trained directly on him.

"Are you ok?" Arcee asked, looking down at the small human cuddled in her palm. Aulora gave a small smile and a nod.

"Arcee, get Aulora back to base and send Bulkhead back with stasis cuffs," Ratchet instructed. Arcee nodded firmly as she practically ran back through the ground bridge, Aulora still clutched tightly against her.

"So how'd you know Aulora was in trouble?" Bumblebee asked, never letting his eyes trail from the limp beast in front of him.

"I was rather concerned when it came to my attention that Aulora's uncle had not been in Jasper yet, and would most likely not for a while. So upon my request, I had her create a code phrase to use if she was ever in trouble, no matter the circumstances. She was well aware a ground bridge does not have a distributor hub, and thus chose it," Ratchet explained, kneeling down to peer at the legendary monster before him.

* * *

"Scrap, Ratchet! What are we supposed to do!?" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"_We_ aren't doing anything. _I _am helping our patient," Ratchet clarified, briefly looking up from his work on the sleeping giant, his welders fresh with heat, to address the distressed Wrecker.

"And what are we supposed to do after that!? We can't keep it!" Bulkhead exclaimed.

"We can't set it free on the human population either," Arcee commented.

"What is _it, _exactly?" Jack asked from in between Miko and Raf, who were seated on the steps to the raised level, instructed by their guardians that that was the closest they were going to get to the creature's medical bay.

"It's an Ater Tigris," Bumblebee said, almost shuddering with every word.

"A what?!" Miko asked.

"Ater Tigris. They were a peaceful group of creatures that roamed the mountainous regions of Cybertron during its Golden Age. But the war slowly brought about their downfall, as their packs were caught out in the middle of fire, for they were not known to attack…anything for that matter," Ratchet started.

"Until Megatron's sick mind began working overdrive," Bulkhead added.

"Shockwave, after raiding a small chain of Autobot weapon depots, was able to attain the correct equipment to construct a mind control patch that would allow him to access a Cybertronians main frame and bend him to his will," Ratchet said, disgust drooling from his mouth.

"Being that the device was still in its early stages, Megatron suggested a primitive mind to test the weapon out on. And so they went out on a hunt for a Lamina Tigris, for the foolish Lord of Darkness did not realize the mental capacity these creatures possess," Ratchet continued.

"But isn't it impossible to catch one?" Arcee asked.

"Why's that?" Raf asked.

"Due to the fact Lamina Tigris were not programmed to fight, they possessed an ability to counteract that defect. It was the ability to molecularly break down their bodies' cell components to…blend in, so to speak, with the shadows around him. An advanced form of camouflage, if you will," Ratchet explained further.

"They can become a shadow!? Wicked!" Miko exclaimed.

"No one knew how Megatron obtained one, but he did. And Shockwave had his ways with the poor creature, turning him into the ultimate Autobot hunter. His rage and fury were legendary. With one flip of a switch, the Cons were known to let the beast loose upon a Neutral city in order to encourage Decepticon allegiance. When they refused, it took the creature no less than an Earth hour to wipe through the town, leaving no life behind it," Ratchet explained gravely.

"He left nothing in one piece," Bumblebee added.

"After time, though, the Lamina Tigris was able to escape Megatron and it was rumor he aided the Autobots from time to time, though he always kept himself hidden. And no one heard from him after that, at least…until now," Ratchet said, looking down at his patient.

"So that's what must've landed in the DJD pod," Bulkhead added.

"But what was he doing on their ship to begin with?" Arcee asked.

"Maybe he never did leave the 'Con cause," Bumblebee said.

"So what are you going to do to him? Lock 'em up? Send 'em back to the 'Cons?" Miko asked, almost impatiently.

"I'll leave that for Optimus to decide once he has fully rested. But until then, I do not want any of you coming near him, is that understood?" Ratchet demanded, glaring first at the human children and then at the other Autobots.

"I have worked on hundreds of victims that have perished by this creature's hand. Whether he abandoned his ways or not, he is capable of unspeakable torture and pain," he gravely explained.

* * *

He made his way evenly down the hallway, his steady footfall echoing across the empty hallways. Every few seconds, a grimace would cross his face as he felt all of the tiny salt particles scratch and grind between his armor and protoform and in between his joint components. At this late at night, the young Prime believed it the most efficient time to take a much-needed, warm hydrochloric shower, not only to thoroughly scrub off all of the excess saltwater from his body…but to allow the mech to think. He needed some time, and some pace, to ponder what exactly should be done about the wounded war legend in stasis. Every notion he contemplated over never seemed to completely serve justice in anyone's case. He had even stopped to listen to the Matrix for a few seconds, to see what advice it would give him, the operative words being "few seconds." He needed a little while to consider the options before him.

He stopped a few yards before the wash room upon hearing a small intake of breath; a human breath. Further observation revealed to Optimus a subtle, fowl stench that had accumulated in the air. Though it was merely a whiff of the substance, the smell itself already dissipating, it reminded Optimus of the grotesque matter Ratchet had been cleaning out of Bulkhead's hub-space after he had kept Miko in there during a training session with Bumblebee, the Wrecker explaining that the young human had called it "vomit", much similar to a Cybertronian's act of purging. He slowly peered into the wash room, glancing over the several, large dividers Ratchet had installed as makeshift stalls, and the few human lavatory stalls, to finally find the source of the noise…and stench.

Huddled against the opposite wall, Optimus beheld Aulora's small, hunched form, her hands cuddled limply in her lap, as her eyes stared limply on the ground ahead of her. They appeared empty, as if the beautiful, lively blue that was once there had been replaced by an overcast of grey that lingered like smoke. He could spot the small glimmering of a single tear that was slowly trenching its way down her face. The windows to the soul, an old friend had once described them as. The optics were the opening to everything inside of a mech. And here, it appeared that the soul almost seemed to be…missing. A lost soul.

A lost soul.

He couldn't help but watch as the memory unfurled before him.

_Everyone had left the command center. All talking had ceased, leaving the large, spacious room a chamber of echoes. Everyone was resting. It had been a long day. While the Decepticons were no doubt celebrating their astounding achievement, the Autobots were left to grieve and mourn over the beautiful city, the warriors that had stayed to protect it and the dear friends that had not made it out. Praxus had officially fallen that day. It hadn't been unexpected. The Decepticons had continually overrun the large city with millions of it troops and had made it clear to the Autobot-favoring city-state that it was indeed a target. But the Autobots believed they stood a chance. And when the bombs sounded across Cybertron, their echoes still resonating across the now barren and empty city, everyone stood speechless. No one had wanted this day to come, when the Decepticons would lose patience and simply destroy everything. But it did. And while the Decepticons were recounting their masses and most likely preparing for their next attack, the Autobots retreated to their bunkers and chambers, their hollow, empty sobs reverberating across the silent hallways, their cries scratching at his spark. The mech continued further down the hallway, pushing aside the moans and cries of despair, almost smiling to himself at the sound of familiar servos flying across a keyboard. Of course he was awake, the mech thought to himself. He came upon the entrance of the command center and watched with pity as his former pupil kept his eyes directly on the screens above him, continuing to type as if his very spark depended on it. His large shoulders were hunched over the controls, his body clearly worn out and exhausted. But he kept going. He almost didn't hear the mech approaching him from behind until his hand was upon his shoulder, and he watched amused as his former pupil almost jumped straight from his chair, his tired eyes turning around to behold with him complete fright. _

_"I'm sorry, Optimus. I didn't mean to frighten you," he answered with a large grin on his face. _

_The young mech's face plate immediately began to relax as he beheld his old mentor. _

_"It's alright," he replied. _

_Alpha Trion turned his attention to the overhead screen._

_"It's a tragedy, isn't it?" the librarian asked. _

_"Indeed," Optimus replied, the familiar emptiness filling his voice once more. His mentor turned his optics back down to look at him. _

_"Have they found any survivors?" Alpha Trion asked. _

_"Prowl and Jazz reported in a little while ago to inform me they have leadership over a large group of Praxians they were able to evacuate before the bombs were dropped and are on route to Iacon at the moment," the Last Prime explained. _

_"What about your search teams? Have they returned with any survivors?" Alpha Trion pondered further._

_"All teams returned empty handed, except for Team 32, who returned a short while ago with a youngling," he explained. _

_"Oh yes, the little yellow Praxian Ironhide found beneath the rubble. Ratchet and Red Alert introduced me to him on my way down here. Such a shame to grow up amidst war without a carrier or sire," the old Prime commented. _

_The young Prime simply grunted his reply. _

_He observed his young pupil harder, almost unable to recognize him beneath the new, tumbling weight of Cybertron he now bore on his shoulders. _

_"You look like a lost soul, my dear Orion," the librarian commented. _

_"I beg your pardon," Optimus said, turning confused to his skeptical mentor. _

_"A lost soul. A spark that has lost its way. It's not your fault, Optimus," the mentor replied, switching back to his current designation. _

_"I am aware of that, Alpha Trion," Optimus replied, though not too convincingly. _

_"I am not referring to Praxus," Alpha Trion clarified, his optics burning deeper through Optimus's. _

_The young Prime raised his eyebrows in confusion, until he finally realized what his mentor had been implying. His gaze fell to the keyboard in front of him. _

_His mentor knew him well, and knew this was the signal that indicated the slow decline his pupil would take away from society. He would brood within his-self and push away everyone, until the pain festered into a hardened rock, which is what the mech preferred. Instead of a hot, melting pain, a hardened pain could be stacked and packed away for another time. He knew he was fading fast. _

_"Orion, would you accompany me on a walk? I wish to see that spritely little Praxian again," Alpha Trion stated, a large grin on his face. _

_The young Prime turned to his old mentor with complete confusion etched into his faceplate. Though he knew from millions of previous arguments and conversations that he was not going to win this conversation, he was still interested in what exactly the old librarian had going on in the back of his mind. Though he knew his mentor had always had a soft spot for younglings, he felt something else going on underneath. _

_"Come on, Orion. That poor thing is all alone with Ratchet," Alpha Trion chuckled, already grabbing his pupil by the arm and pulling him along. Optimus stumbled after him. _

_"And just like that little Praxian, I was not about to leave you alone," Alpha Trion added, his previous grin replaced with a serious expression. _

_"A lost soul always needs a little guidance."_

A lost soul. Little had his mentor known he had been one all his life. But watching the sullen girl before him reminded him of a small mech years ago. Lost and alone in the Hall of Records, it was an old librarian who penetrated his fortress and welcomed him back to the land of the living. His mentor helped him back.

And now it was his time to be a mentor in return.

* * *

**hey, hey, hey! so how'd yah like it? Little bit of Alpha Trion guest appearance, little bit of Bumblebee's origin story :) i had fun with this one. go ahead, leave some comments. **


	4. Guilt Tattoo

**hi hi hi!**

**so here's the next chapter! another relic debut, hope you guys enjoy it :) finally got that Optimus x Aulora convo we've been waiting for :)**

**i also want to thank you all who read my last chapter and i want to apologize for the few grammatical errors. Proditor is an Ater Tigris. When I first wrote these, I referred to him as a Lamina Tigris, and I never switched the names back in a few of the paragraphs, so I apologize again. **

**and last, but certainly no least, I want to thank all of you readers from the bottom of my heart. Last week Fate of A Shooting Star: Unveiling the Impossible just reached over 300 readers! That may not seem like alot, but to me, I could not be happier! I never wanted to publish my stories in the first place. I simply wrote them for my own entertainment. I was so afraid of what you guys would think of it, if any of you wanted to read it at all. You don't know how blessed I feel to know so many people are getting a chance and even leaving absolutely beautiful comments about my stories. You are all amazing, amazing people and I hope that you know you made me the happiest person alive! 3**

**Don't be afraid to leave comments :) I wanna know what you think**

**Playlist for Guilt Tattoo**

**Tattooed Heart: Ariana Grande :)**

**Ugly Heart: G.R.L**

**SAIL: awolnation**

**Clarity: Zedd**

**Summer of '69: Bryan Adams**

**Leave My Heart Out of This: Fifth Harmony**

**Skyscraper: Demi Lovato**

* * *

"Aulora?"

She looked up at him, startled. She quickly rubbed at her swollen eyes desperately trying to wipe the tears away. She almost hit herself. She had just been caught crying by Optimus Prime. She was totally sending that moment to 17 Magazine for their next month's Trauma-Mama section.

"Sorry, Optimus. I didn't see you there," she responded, the young mech noticing her sticky, scratchy voice. She had been crying for a while. Optimus deduced that her stomach had not been able to handle the devastating state the Ater Tigris had been found in.

"There is no need for apologies, Aulora. May I…sit down?" he asked, gesturing to the space beside her. She returned her gaze to the ground and weakly nodded her head. _Great_, she thought to herself. _He was going to stay_.

The Autobot leader crouched down to the ground and let his back fall against the wall, as he stretched his left leg out straight and bent the other up to his chest, letting his right arm rest on his knee. An empty and calm silence passed between the two as they let their thoughts settle.

And the impact following was nothing short of…indescribable.

Upon the almost immediate settling of his body on the ground, Optimus felt like he had immediately immersed himself in a field of high-voltage energy. He couldn't see anything, but the feeling of static dancing about his skin made him shudder with uncertainty. However, as he let his uncertain mind relax, he suddenly felt a heavy, warm force swimming around his mind. It jumped and skittered with fear and anxiety all about his mind, creating tiny ripples of force that pulsed against his mind. The feeling was beyond words. It reminded him of his body in water, only now his mind was. The almost cosmic energy rippled like waves around him, curiously wavering along the patterns and folds of his brain. But there was something so familiar about the energy, it tugged deep within his spark. The way it curiously poked and slithered along the inside of his thoughts, the way it seemed to glow with love and gentleness…he was somehow reveling in Aulora's subconscious. He wasn't in it, rather it was around him. It was as if there were no longer two, solid bodies sitting next to each other. Rather, the two bodies had molded to form one large subconscious, two minds weaving in and out of each other, each one feeding off of the other. It was as if they were one…substance. Her thoughts were simply there, dancing right on his fingertips, every emotion playing across his spark as if it were his own.

And they were horrible.

He could feel his stomach twisting with her raw discomfort upon seeing Proditor's wounds. And as he traveled further along the surface of her thoughts, the image of Proditor's battered form replayed in her mind. Something about the event seemed to trigger something within the teen. The cause was too intense and intricate for Optimus to dig away at, but it was buried deep down within her soul, and it was painful. He could feel her immediate uneasiness of his presence alone there. Though he could sense and feel her small bit of care towards him, the mind read during the ocean certainly easing the tension between the two, she still felt afraid. Not of him. From what he could gather, she seemed to be deeply intrigued by him. The folds of her mind seem to warm at the idea of his presence beside her. However, she never relished in the warmth for too long, for the idea of another mental attack scared her deeply.

_You look like a lost soul, my dear Orion. _

Was this what he had looked like? Someone with such a large mind, and an equally large heart trying to act as small as possible. Big curious eyes sunken deep into the safe corners of the head, trying to avoid contact. A body shivering and shuffling further into the corner away from others. Did he look like that? Someone that had such a split body. While seemingly unfazed on the outside, her insides seemed to be pulling further and further away from the rest of the world, sinking deeper and deeper into a chasm of chains it had created to lock away everything from sight. Oh how lost she looked. What had his mentor done? Though he was certainly no mentor-figure in Aulora's eyes, she needed guidance. He thought back to the old librarian.

He had started conversation; something to draw him back to the outside world.

"Proditor is expected to make a full recovery," Optimus reported. He watched as Aulora slowly nodded her head. Optimus realized that amidst Arcee's questioning, having Aulora go through every little piece of detail regarding last night, she had never been informed of what exactly was happening around her. And upon remembering her rather fragile state, he was able to sense from her that she vomited due to her inability to stomach the injuries Predator had sustained. He remembered her face had been deathly pale during Ratchet's first attempts to revive the fallen creature.

He watched her as she continue to wallow in her own world, her body almost shut down from the outside world. But Alpha Trion was right. As a mentor, as a leader, as a Telonian partner, he was not going to let her fall back down again.

"I want to personally thank you for rescuing me this morning," Optimus replied, looking down at the small human beside him. He watched as her shoulders arched up into a shrug, the field of psychological energy slightly rippling with a colorful blast of a shimmering wave. A nerve had been peeked with interest.

"It was a group effort," she responded.

Another lapse of silence. Optimus looked back down at the girl and could not help but stare in complete fascination at how much of himself he saw within her. It almost felt like it was yesterday that that small, huddled form was him, cramped tightly between the evenly spaced bookshelves on the Halls top level, hiding from the rest of the world. Granted, he had been younger than Aulora, but the blank stare, the raw stomach, the trembling hands…it was astounding to feel he was looking into a mirror. It suddenly pained him that he had left the teenager alone to stumble through the uneasiness of this burden all on her own. He grumbled to his passive attitude in attempting to help Aulora through this rather interesting time. She had had no one there for her, and he left it like that, believing if she had need something, she would've come to him. But would he have gone to Alpha Trion? Absolutely not. And neither would've Aulora. He shouldn't have been eager to assume differently.

"Aulora, it has come to my knowledge that I have not been very forthcoming with you for the past few days, and vice versa," the young Prime started, watching as Aulora peered up at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I believe I can speak for the both of us in saying that we have let our fears of our new connection distance us in attempts to ensure such a mental attack will not occur again," he continued. He slowly felt the tingly uneasiness slowly subside from the energy bubbling around him. It was melting away, replaced by a sense of welcoming; a sense of belonging.

"However, I have been notified that such measures are not the wisest to be taking, and I believe that if we are to ever overcome our fears and our tribulations, we must learn to trust each other," he added, watching as Aulora's eyes grew wider with curiosity.

"So, being that it is clear neither of us are very informative of our more personal challenges, I suggest we approach this with a fair compromise. I will solicit a question, and for compensation for your answer, you will be able to ask me one," he implied. He watched intently as her pure, crystal eyes scurried around in thought, his spark lifting as her own heart seemed to elate.

She nodded. "A question for a question; sounds like a deal," she replied, rather quietly, but a small smile growing on her lips.

"Very well. My first question is in regards to this morning. I was interested in how you were able to convey a Telonian message so…efficiently and remarkably," he asked. This earned another shoulder shrug, as she kept her eyes trained on the ground, though he knew this time he had her attention.

"Well, when I was asleep, I was in your…mind…again, so I thought if I let my mind relax like I do when I'm sleeping, I would be able to control it this time," she answered. Optimus felt her sentence was withholding more than she was letting on, but he let it go. He was making too much progress to force her back into her burrowed seclusion.

"Alright, my turn," she said, turning back up to lock onto his eyes. His spark brightened at the shimmering returning to her eyes. "There's a group of voices in your head that keep calling you Orion…and they don't seem to really like me," she replied, and she almost gasped at the small smile that had formed on Optimus's face. It looked so…foreign on him. But at the same time, the way his eyes illuminated with his small gesture seemed to signal that Optimus had done this quite often.

"Those are the collected sparks of the Primes before myself. And do not be offended by their distrust in you. They almost never seem to be partial to anyone, for that matter," he answered.

"Wait, so they can talk to you?" she asked, Optimus almost smiling once again as he watched a sparkle of life twinkle deep within her bright eyes. He also ignored the fact that she had asked two questions.

"The Matrix of Leadership contains the collected wisdom of the Primes, meaning it creates a direct outlet to the Well of Allsparks where their sparks reside," he answered.

"But they're Primes. I thought they were supposed to be, I don't know…nice. They seem really mean to you," she replied.

"At first, they were a favorable collection of advisors. I was always listening to their ever persistent advice. However, as my time as Prime lingered on, I have done things that were very unbecoming of a Prime, and to some extent an offense against the Matrix. And their wisdom so became ridicule and slander, though I can hardly blame them," he answered, keeping his eyes trained on Aulora's, for they were the only ones keeping his mind steady. He had never indulged that information to anyone, not even Alpha Trion, his most trusted mentor. The crimes he had committed against the Code of the Primes, and their plague of hatred following was something he never wished or imagined he would share with someone else. It almost terrified him he had been so open with the human youngling before him. But the intense connection the two were experiencing, almost gave the Prime the impression that he was simply relaying the information to himself, he felt that close to her.

Aulora stared at the Prime in complete wonder…and confusion. Unbecoming? Offensive? Those were the absolute last words that came to her mind when she thought of Optimus. As the most loyal, strongest, most dependable and wisest person she had ever met in her lifetime, she believed those words were almost beneath him; that it was horrible to even consider him possible of doing things like that. She wanted to ask more. What had he done? And why? But something deep within her told her that that was another Pandora's box for another day.

"So, do they talk to you…like all the time?" she asked.

"They do. However, it disgusts me that I have learned of a way to "turn a blind eye" so to speak on their comments. Primus knows I deserve them," he answered.

"You're like Proditor," Aulora commented, clamping her hands over her mouth in surprise the words had come out of her mouth. Optimus turned to her, eyebrows raised with interest.

"Not in an offensive way, or anything. It's just…when I was talking to him, he believed he deserved to die for the things he did to Cybertronians. I told him that when we have the ability to forgive, no one will ever deserve pain," she explained. She watched as his eyes wondered with…guilt. She reveled in the deep guilt she seem to now bear heavily on her chest, realizing her mind was only mimicking the feelings of Optimus. But it was all too familiar. The weight, the heavy, heavy weight of guilt.

"I don't mean to insult the 12 original Primes, but even they have the ability to forgive, even though they're kind of dead," she said, a small smile forming on her lips.

"I do not believe you wish to hear what they have to say about you at this moment," Optimus replied, a small, humorous twinkle sparking in his eyes. Aulora giggled.

"No, I probably don't. Tell them I said hi, by the way," she said, Optimus's heart smiling at the sound of a pure burst of laughter that echoed from her mouth. He had finally guided the lost soul back to its path.

Guided.

"Aulora, in light of recent events, it has come to my attention that you are in dire need of a permanent guardian. And thought I do not believe I am the most dependable of figures for the job, I would like to offer my services as your primary guardian," he said.

She stared up at with large, sparkling eyes, smiled and nodded.

* * *

She watched with interest as her new patient tucked her legs through the chair's arms into a criss-cross applesauce. She was able to distinguish that this gesture meant one of two things; her patient either felt completely at ease and comfortable in this setting, which for the first day of her session would indicate a large improvement already or she was already losing interest. Either way, she would have to delve deep soon to keep her attention, without pushing her away.

"Hi, Aulora."

The girl's eyes stayed wide and trained on the therapist in front of her, never blinking or moving.

"Do you know why you're here today?" the therapist asked, plastering on a smile.

"Because my uncle has deep pockets to take care of his advisors' interests in his less than adequate parenting skills," she answered matter-of-factly, her tone quiet and even. She wasn't trying to sound sarcastic. She just knew the exact reason why.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the therapist (Ms. Collins) asked gently, her face suddenly falling serious.

Aulora didn't answer for a few moments, as she scrunched her eyes in observation as she studied the woman in front of her. She clearly looked to be somewhere in her 20's, and her bright pink, neckline plunging shirt, mahogany shelves jammed tight with head thick textbooks and golden-retriever bobble head on her desk suggested she was either fresh out of college, or Aulora was in the wrong session. Either way, this therapist had clearly already been bought and paid for by her uncle, so there was no use in explaining any problems she truly was experiencing. Not that she would divulge them to a stranger in the first place. She just knew that her uncle had already had his assistant right up a 10 page report on her apparent behavior that his continual business trips clearly left him time to observe.

"Why am I here?" she asked.

"Your uncle is worried about you," Ms. Collins started. The ball was in Aulora's court now.

"Worried about what, exactly?"

"He's worried you still haven't come to terms with your family's passing," Ms. Collins explained, her eyes filling with mechanical sympathy.

"That's it? Seriously!? So he had his assistant call me at 5 o'clock this morning to tell me I had a 4 o'clock appointment with a therapist to talk about the accident?" Aulora asked.

"Is that how you refer to it? The accident?" Ms. Collins asked, her eyes habitually censored into an intrigued faze.

"What am I _supposed_ to call it?" Aulora asked, her eyes perked with confusion.

"Well, it's just some victims label traumatic events with simple terminology in order to create a less personal connection with it," she explained, her thin fingers now intertwining as she rested her elbows on her desk.

"I was in the accident. How can I not have a personal connection with it?" Aulora asked, still trying to comprehend what exactly the woman in front of her was trying to get at.

"So you do understand your involvement in the incident," she stated, quickly scribbling something out on the yellow pad in front of her. She set her pen on top of the pad and turned her eyes back up to her patient.

"Let me ask you this. Do you feel responsible for your family's deaths?" she asked, closely studying the patient before her.

Aulora's mouth dropped. It felt as if she had been slapped brutally across the face, and then another fist came around and punched her right in the gut, as she numbly sat there listening to the empty echoes it created bounce off of her equally empty body. The truth was painful. It hurt like stab through the heart. But the way she had asked the question, the way her voice dipped slightly in the middle, it sounded as if she could fix it. That all of those head-thick textbooks behind her had prepared her for this moment, where she would be able to cure her patient of the burden she carried. But there wasn't a cure. Blame such as that for a family's deaths was etched so perfectly and cleanly into her soul. A needle so precise and cruel had written, in its own language, the responsibility she now bore for the loss of everything she held dear to her. There was no removing it. It was the tattoo of Guilt, of Fault. It wasn't one of Sadness or Sympathy towards the deceased. Sadness and Sympathy were easy to remedy. They were light, short-term feelings that never stayed forever. Guilt…that was in a whole other category of its own. That was a permanent tattoo, one she had covered up under her shirt, under her skin, under her chest for years. And the overpaid therapist that stood before her had just sliced her French, manicured nails right through her heart and pried it open, leaving it squirming and withering from exposure.

_/I wanna thrill you like Michael. /I wanna kiss you like Prince. /Let's get it on like Marvin Gaye. /Like Hathaway. Write a song for you like this/_

Aulora almost jumped completely out of her seat at the crystal voice that echoed from her cell phone. She didn't even bother looking at the caller id before answering. To say she was saved by the bell was a large understatement.

"Hello?"

"Aulora, it's Ratchet. We require your assistance. It's an emergency," he quickly stated, his voice urgent.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll have Raf brief you when you arrive. There's no time. Contact me when you are out of public sight and I'll send you a bridge," he stated, before hanging up.

_Thank you, Ratchet. _

Aulora looked back up at her therapist. "Well, that was one of my friends. I have to go," Aulora explained, already collecting her bag from the floor and heading for the door.

"But our session isn't over yet. You can't run away from your feelings like that," Ms. Collins called back after her.

Aulora was already halfway out the door before she turned around, smile and waved goodbye.

* * *

"Ground bridge shutting down!" Raf called out. He turned to wave hello to Aulora, who was already sprinting up the steps to him.

"Raf, where's Ratchet? What's going on?" she asked, her eyes desperately searching the base for the medic.

"I bridged him out right after he called you. You would not believe what they're doing in the Sahara right now," he said, whipping his swivel chair back around to his laptop. Aulora quickly came to his side, resting her elbows on the back of his chair.

"Ratchet detected another Iacon Relic beacon a little a while ago, and it belongs to this," Raf started, pulling up a large image on the overhead screen. Aulora stared at the small tube.

"It's a pipe?"

"No, it's actually a map," Raf answered.

"I know there's some Dora joke to be made here," Aulora commented, making Raf smile.

"But it's not just any map. From what Ratchet's databases explain, the beacon belongs to a relic known as the Iacon Map of Relics," Raf explained.

"Wait, you mean…."

"This map could be a map to any other Iacon Relic on the planet," Raf answered, rather excitedly.

"We could finally get the edge we need over the Decepticons," Aulora commented.

"Speaking of Decepticons," Raf stated. Raf and Aulora looked up at the screen before them as a group of blinking, red dots appeared on the overhead screen as they quickly began approaching the Autobots' life signatures.

"Not good," Aulora commented.

"Optimus, there's about 10 Decepticon signals headed towards you guys from the East, about a mile out," Raf explained, reaching over the keyboard in front of him to speak into the microphone.

"Thank you for the observation, Rafael. Please continue to inform me of any changes," the Prime answered back, his voice echoing across the empty base.

"Will do, Optimus," the 12 year old replied.

"I don't get it, though. If it's just a map, why bring Ratchet out into the field? Why bring the _whole team_ out there? This could've just been a two man job. Bee could've scouted the place out and Optimus would be his fire power," Aulora asked, leaning against the controls to look at Raf.

"Optimus figured that because the 'Cons let them get away with the Polarity Gauntlet, they would come twice as strong to this relic to make sure we didn't walk away with another one," Raf explained.

The two humans suddenly turned to the screen above them, their eyes wide with fear and worry as their teammates voices sounded across the base.

**_"Bee, behind you!"_**

**_"I got your back, buddy!"_**

**_"Arcee, you are with me. We must ensure that Ratchet makes it to the relic!"_**

**_"Take that you rusted piece of tin!"_**

**_"Starscream! Here to join the party?!"_**

**_"Megatron, stand down!"_**

**_"Optimus, I've lost a visual on Ratchet. He's surrounded by too many flyers. He's-!"_**

**_"Arcee, respond! Arcee, do you copy?!"_**

**_"Bulkhead you got these guys!? I'm gonna go help 'Cee!"_**

Raf stared frantically up at the screen before him.

"There's 2 Decepticon signals making their way to the relic! The 'Bots won't get there in time!" Raf exclaimed.

"What do we do!?" Aulora asked anxiously.

"Arcee and Ratchet are down and they've got Optimus, 'Bee and Bulkhead surrounded! There's no one we _can_ warn!" Raf exclaimed with utter worry.

"What if you drop me off, Raf? Like right where the relic is?" Aulora asked, peering down at the middle-schooler.

"What!?"

"If I go now, I'll grab the relic before the 'Cons ever come close to it and then you can bridge me back!" Aulora exclaimed, slowly putting the pieces together.

"Well-"

Raf's answer was suddenly interrupted by an ear-piercing blast of sound, one that echoed across every comm-link and sent the kids reeling back in pain, covering their ears. The blast was quick, it was only a few seconds. But it was large. It sounded larger than a blaster shot. It sounded more painful than a blaster shot. Still covering their ears, Raf and Aulora stared back up at the screen.

"Their signals, all of them…their all down!" Raf yelled over his still ringing ears.

"What just happened!?" Aulora exclaimed.

Raf turned around in his seat to face her.

"The relic. It just…exploded."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Don't be afraid to comment :)**


	5. Plagued

**hi hi hi!**

**so how's it going? Sorry about the delay. Now that everything is starting up again, plus a little writer's block, procrastination as become my best friend. Oh well. C'est la vie. **

**so this is the last story for this chapter of the Fate of a Shooting Star series. Make sure to keep your eyes out for The Fate of a Shooting Star: Tilted Axis. Let me repeat that one more time. This is the last story for The Fate of a Shooting Star: Comes Back to Haunt, and the next story with be published under the next chapter The Fate of a Shooting Star: Tilted Axis. I don't know how many PM's I've gotten asking me why I've stopped writing stories and why I haven't continued the series. I have, it's just I laid this series out so that each chapter has 5 sub-stories, usually all fitting into a common theme. **

**And for those of you who skip right over this message to just read the story (i know who you are. don't worry, i used to do it all the time too) i will be putting a brief intermission in this story to remind you again. that way you can't miss it. * victoriously smiles***

**please enjoy this and please, please, please do not hesitate to leave reviews. **

**LOTS of OC introductions!**

The disturbed sand hung in the thick air with patience, the ripped metal and combusted rocks finally settling down, their surfaces still tickling with the immense energy of the explosion. A horrible, foreboding silence clung to the air with vengeance. As the dust slowly started to trickle away, the scene finally came into view.

The land had been desecrated.

The scattered ancient buildings and some of their still-standing walls had been blasted to pieces, piles of bricks, rocks and cement thrown haphazardly across the sandy desert. The already setting sun painted ghastly shadows across the disturbed rubble, the sunset coating the marble stones in layers of golden light, an ironic beauty to the pain it was covering beneath its rays. The still unconscious bodies that were hidden beneath the piles of rubble were trapped. A small, purple femme was being crushed beneath the heavy weight of a collapsed wall, the fallen medic and the yellow Scout in a similar predicament. The green Wrecker was pinned against the ground by a massive pile of construction pipes. The mighty Prime was pinned beneath layers of thick debris, the semi uncovered rod of a constructed wall angled downward, straight through the side of his shoulder. They were nothing short of blessed that the opposing faction would wake to find themselves in a similar position, but this insured nothing. Reinforcements for Megatron and his troops would arrive, whether it would be his scouring armada of Insecticons or his diligent drones. They would rescue their fallen master and the rest of his troops. But the Autobots had no one. There was no armada, or squad, or a single soldier for that matter, left to rescue them.

They were at the complete and utter mercy of whichever Decepticon would uncover their pained bodies beneath the rubble.

Any small ounce of hope that remained for Team Prime rested on the shoulders of the small, timid human that slowly stepped out from the activated ground bridge, surveying the damage before her.

_Alright, Aulora. You got this. _

With a gentle, swift flicker of wind, the ground bridge closed behind her as she stared out at the ruins below her. The relic had seemed to create a circular crater that rounded around the small sand dune the relic was seated on. The large dip in the Earth extended for a few miles, anything in between completely covered by anything the radius of the explosion was able to get its hands on. There was no Autobot or Decepticon in sight. Her heart tugged with worry, her feet already instinctively carrying her toward the piles of debris to search for her friends, but she knew better. She was only here to collect the relic. She gave one last look at the still silent scene before her before turning back to the center of the dune.

A small hole had formed in its center, cracks dancing from its edges, as if the sand around it had turned to hardened rock. She slowly sank to her knees as she peered into the small hole. There, at the bottom, partially covered by rock was…

Two relics.

Aulora's eyes widened in shock as she beheld the two mystic weapons in front of her. One was a golden rod, easily as long as her arm. Each end was covered with a sparkling, yellow jewel that twinkled with the setting sun. All across its glimmering surface, Cybertronian letters were etched neatly and evenly in columns. It had to be the map. Aulora squinted her eyes and peered closer to the rod, already inspecting the lettering in an attempt to read it, when her eyes caught the other relic, settled in the rock beside it. _The other relic_. The one the Autobots' censors hadn't detected. It was an orb, most likely the size of her head, that sparkled with a pristine blue, its surface dancing and shimmering with darker and lighter shades of blue, as if it was reflecting the surface of the ocean.

Both relics were magnificent. Aulora was easily enthralled by their evident beauty.

Suddenly, a flash of light caught her attention and the immediate sense of heat tingling across her ribs directed her attention down to her chest. There she watched with utter confusion and fear as the serum bottle was soon covered in a glowing, pulsing blue light. Her eyes suddenly darted to the relics, as they soon became enveloped in the same blue light, the pulses of illumination falling in beat with each other; the beat of a heart…her heart.

"Well, well. It seems the pet has found something new."

Aulora was finally pulled from her trance on her glowing necklace and relics to stare at the source of the deep voice. Her heart dropped like a cold rock in her stomach as she beheld the tall, beastly form of Megatron. His armor gleamed with radiance with the last rays of the setting sun, his fiery red eyes almost matching the scarlet sunset. She watched as he reached out his claw like fingers, his palm open to her, coming within feet of her face.

"Hand the relics to me and you and your Autobot allies will be able to walk away from this alive. Choose wisely, Aulora."

She almost vomited at the sound of her name on his tongue, her eyes and mouth still wide and gaping at the Lord of Darkness before her, all of the pent up fear that she had contained in her nightmares from the terrifying night at the volcano resurfacing in seconds. She was paralyzed; immobile with fear. She couldn't produce a word even if she wanted to. And so she remained silent and still as she continued to tremble with fear. She watched as one of Megatron's eye brows peaked with intrigue.

"No? You always were the stubborn one, weren't you Aulora. Of course I don't object to adding a few more burns to that fleshy skin of yours," Megatron bellowed, his voice rising with his armed hand, his sentence finishing with the sizzling end of his blaster glaring at Aulora straight in the face. However, the Decepticon leader failed to keep his watch over the relics, the pulsing blue light slowly growing throughout his conversation, until it now became a blinding, white flash of light. In a click, the relics flew from the ground flew into Aulora's hands. The young teenager watched, mystified, as the Map of Relics vibrated in her hand, as an arc of piercing blue light expanded from the relic, incasing the young, Autobot ally in a dome of crystal blue energy.

"NO!" Megatron roared. And with all the power he had, he released the pent up energy in his blaster onto the glowing dome that had formed around Aulora. Sickly purple energy collided with dazzling blues, and explosion of color stretching out across the landscape, rainbows of colors dancing through the air.

"Aulora, the evacuation process is complete. I was able to wake up Bumblebee and we were able to get everyone through. I repeat, the Autobots have made it back to base." Aulora listed as Raf's voice traveled from her ear piece into her ear.

"You insignificant, little pest. Release the relics at once, and I will ensure your death is swift!" Megatron growled, his voice somewhat muffled by the energy dome.

"Aulora, I'm getting some serious energy readings from your last coordinates! Can I bridge you in?"

"Negative, Raf. I'm ok. Just give me a few seconds," she replied.

She took another look at the dome around her. If the map itself could generate a defensive dome of energy…perhaps it could redirect it into the offensive mode. She tightly gripped the arm length tube in her fingers. _Here goes nothing. _She collected her arms above her shoulder, as if ready to strike with a bat, and swung it hard against the air in front of her. The crystal on the map's face directed at Megatron suddenly exploded with light, the Lord of Darkness's eyes ignited with fear as the blast of energy catapulted his body directly into the pile of debris, his limp body clanging against hard rock.

The disturbed dust finally settled, the air regaining its composure, as the sparkling dome around Aulora slowly began to dissolve, her necklace and the relics finally returning to their normal color, a wide smile of thrill and exhilaration spreading across her face, as she eyed the relics in her hand eagerly.

"Hey, Raf. I could really use that ground bridge right about now."

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?" Aulora and Raf turned to each other with guilty expressions as they turned back to look at the raging senior field medic.

"NOT ONLY DID YOU CONFRONT A BATTLE ZONE, WHEN I SPECIFICALLY ORDERED YOU TO STAY HERE, BUT IT ALSO BEHOOVED YOU TO MAKE CONTACT WITH TWO VOLATILE RELICS, ONE HAVEN NOT SECONDS BEFORE DEMOLISHED ANY STANDING OBJECT WITHIN A 5 MILE RADUIS!" Ratchet exclaimed, his eyes blazing with fiery temper.

"Did you hear him!? Volatile?! I oughta light 'em up like the fires of Kaon!"

Every pair of eyes, including Arcee, Bumblebee and Bulkhead's, who had already been checked by Ratchet, widened and twisted with utter confusion. Each set of eyes turned to each other, waiting for someone to show recognition at who spoke. But they all shook their heads, one common thought flowing through their minds. _They had never heard that voice before. _

Raf and Ratchet slowly followed Aulora's perplexed eyes to the floor behind Arcee, the other three Autobots finally turning behind them to see what they were looking at. They watched in wonder as a green, digital image began to form and levitate about a few inches about their respective relics.

"BTW's, you were the one that went all Supernova on the place. Problems aside, Prevus would you for once, just please keep your voice down! I swear, you'd think you're issuing a battle cry!"

The Autobots watched, stunned, as the images grew to about 1 and half feet tall, the images finally focusing to reveal clear cut edges and curves, dips and molds. Every jaw dropped at the sight before them. They were Cybertronians. Cybertronian holograms, that is.

"We are in the middle of a war, Nova! You got to get used to the fact that I'm going to yell battle cries as often as you complain."

"As often as I complain!? Last I remember, you saw the Decepticons coming toward you and you completely lost it. For all we know, you could've seriously hurt…."

The image's voice stopped dead in its tracks, as it turned in the direction of its outstretched arm, discovering a group of wide-eyed Cybertronians and humans staring at the two, realizing they were able to see her. The other image slowly turned his head to face the group too, his face never changing.

"See, I didn't hurt any of them," the serious image responded. The first image turned to the other with rage painted clearly across her face.

"Are you kidding me!? You made me accidently activate! What happened to breaking it to them slowly!?" she exclaimed.

"Well now we accomplished it in half the time. You're welcome," the other evenly responded.

"You're welcome!? I can't believe…oh never mind. We probably shouldn't keep them hanging like this," she sighed. And simultaneously, both images turned to the face the still very confused group before them, the femme's face lighting up with a large smile, the other still carrying a deadpan expression.

"Hi," the femme greeted, waving her small hand to Team Prime. Bumblebee, Raf and Miko responded with a small wave, the others still gaping in shock.

"I apologize for the argument you had to be an audience to. My _colleague_, here, can be a little difficult," she responded calmly.

"Difficult!? You were the one that was all "Let's wait here, quietly, for the bio-signature" as two Decepticons were charging towards us, ready to make a grab at the relics!" the other exclaimed, turning to her.

"Wait. You were searching for a bio-signature?" Ratchet interjected. The two, digital Cybertronians were pulled from their argument to look at the field medic.

"Well, there's a lot more to it than _that_," the mech Cybertronian responded coolly.

"Finally! Introductions!" the femme exclaimed excitedly. She cleared her throat and turned to the still confused group before her.

"Hi. My name is Nova and this here is my colleague, Prevus," the mech giving a small nod to the group.

"We are known as Zeta Guardians," she added.

"Guardians of what?" Arcee asked.

"We guard the Zeta Relics. All Iacon Relics can be categorized into smaller sub-groups, one of them being the Zeta Relics. The Zeta Relics are actually a group of relics that were created my several Cybertronians during the beginning of Cybertron's Golden Age. We were each approached by Alpha Trion to construct a type of mechanism that would reflect our career and specialties to be placed in a time capsule for later generations to study and observe," Nova explained.

"We? Wait, you mean…"

"Part of the contract was that our beings would be digitally installed into the relics we created, for the purpose of a future mission," Nova continued.

A look of completely disgust covered Ratchet's face. "You reprogrammed your sparks as if they were some type of…file!? I highly doubt Alpha Trion would partake in such a barbaric procedure," Ratchet scoffed.

"It's a bit more complicated than that," Prevus scoffed, rolling his optics.

"What Prevus means is that our sparks weren't simply jammed into a relic. We relied upon one of Solus Prime's greatest creations; the R-cog," she replied.

"The R-Cog?" Bulkhead asked, slowly trying to keep up with the conversation.

"Solus Prime created a device that could…upgrade the T-Cog, if you will. The new program would allow the relic creators, such as Prevus and I, to resubmit our mind and spark to another form. It was much like the process of transformation, but a little more advanced. This way, when we were ready, we could leave our physical, Cybertronian form and reside within our relics," Nova explained.

"What do you mean "a future mission?" Raf asked, readjusting his glasses further atop his nose.

"Alpha Trion was made known to a future conflict that would entangle an alien race into the Cybertronian race, humans being the alien race. We weren't briefed on many of the details, due mainly to the fact that Alpha Trion never could read the future all to clearly, but from what we were told, there would be a human in particular we would have to find when we would eventually land on this planet," Nova said, her eyes turning to fall on Aulora. The young human desperately searched the faces of her other teammates, hoping Nova was looking at someone else.

"Wait, me!?" Aulora asked, pointing to herself.

"Alpha Trion had reason to believe that you would be in need of not only our intelligence but also the help of the relics themselves. We were instructed to locate the heat signature that would be radiating from your necklace," Nova explained, nodding to the Autobot symbol around her neck.

"But, Cliffjumper made this for me to…" Aulora stopped mid-sentence, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. She turned to look back at the expecting faces of her team and the two newcomers.

"Wait, you're telling me that this was some big plan? That Alpha Trion told Cliffjumper to make me a necklace that would not only protect an important serum, but would emit a heat signature that you guys could track?" Aulora asked, dumfounded, as she remembered back to the glowing competition her necklace was having between the two other relics.

"Bingo," Nova answered, winking at the young human.

"But what's so special about me, though? _Why_ me?" Aulora asked, still horribly confused over everything that was happening.

"We don't know. All we know is that Alpha Trion was dead-set on you and making sure everything was set, in the past, to make sure it make it to you in the future," Nova replied, shrugging her shoulders.

"So what are you guys like, her guardians now?" Jack asked.

"To some extent, sure. You are the only one now, Aulora, who can activate us and call on us when you need help. As the Zeta Guardian of Journeys, I control the Map of the Iacon Relics, and the map's container, as you witnessed before, contains the ability to create a protection dome and an energy blast of its own. Prevus is the Zeta Guardian of Curiosity, and just used up his one explosion, so he can't really do much," Nova explained with a small, victorious grin on her face. Prevus threw her a deadly glare.

"I like to believe that my knowledge and intelligence were of greater importance than brute force," he explained highly.

"What do you mean by the Zeta Guardians of "curiosity" and "journeys?" Ratchet asked.

"Alpha Trion was concerned that if Cliffjumper was never able to find Aulora, there should still be a way for us to find her. And so, we programmed our relics with a "touch-test" as I called it. Anyone who came into physical contact with the Zeta Relics were "interviewed" so to speak, by the Zeta Guardians inside. We were instructed with Aulora's profile, and we'd know how to find her that way," Nova continued.

"A quite inefficient way of gaining results, in my opinion," Prevus scoffed.

"Prevus was instructed with the task of testing Aulora's levels of curiosity, and I, her progress on her journey of self-discovery," Nova explained, completely ignoring Prevus's last comment.

The team turned, surprised, to hear a low grumble coming from Aulora.

"You mean I was played!? You're telling me Cliffjumper pretended to be hurt just so my aunt would bring him home to me!? Did he even like me!? Or was he just pretending the whole time, making sure he completed his mission!?" she exclaimed, small puddles of tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"Aulora, you know that's not…" But Arcee was cutoff.

"Yeah!? How do I know _you're_ not all in on it!?" she exclaimed, looking at Team Prime before her, her eyes swimming with hurt and confusion. She felt utterly betrayed.

"Hey, Aulora, it's ok," Jack reassured, laying a hand on her shoulder. Aulora roughly shook it off and stomped down the stairs.

"I just want to be alone right now."

The Ater Tigris's ears lazily shifted from side to side, as the sound of small, steady foot-fall echoed throughout the empty hallways. Proditor assumed it was simply the medic coming to throw another cube of Energon through the bars of his prison cell door, but a glance at his internal clock informed him it was 2200. It was the middle of the night. He still had another 8 hours before the medic would return with his morning rations. He doubted it was any other members of the team. Though, it was possible the Prime would visit him. But the Prime hadn't seen him at all. Though Proditor did not know many of the ways of the Autobots, he assumed that it was respectful and simply common sense for the leader to not only check-up on but most likely interrogate a prisoner within his base. He found himself to almost hope that the Prime appeared, knowing past memories with the Prime leader would help Proditor out of his solitary confinement.

But he let his heavy armor relax with his sigh. He belonged in a cell. Sure, he might've helped a lot of Autobots out towards the end of the war, and sure he might've saved Optimus's life once…but he openly attacked and held one of their allies hostage. And if there was one thing the Autobots were protective over, it was their allies. Beside the point, he threatened an innocent human, who knew nothing of him and his past actions. Was he that foolishly afraid of the Autobots wrath when they found him that he kept one of their friends as insurance? The little native life form was right; what _was_ he thinking?

He opened his bright, yellow eyes and listened intently as the footsteps grew closer. And as they grew closer, he noticed something else. They were lighter than an Autobot's.

A whole, raging storm of emotions whirl-pooled around in his stomach as he watched Aulora's small body peeked out form the edge of his cell door and plopped down right in the center of it, leaning her back against it.

He listened carefully as she let out a small sigh. What was she going to do? What if they had sent her to interrogate him, or even worse? He immediately began to regret not researching the anatomy of the native life forms. Sure they were small. But that meant nothing. Fire-breathing abilities, retractable claws, venomous fangs; these were all possible features.

"Hi, Proditor," she replied meekly, as if she had almost forgotten he was behind her.

He felt like he was going to vomit. He had almost hurt this completely innocent pup before him. He had displayed so much rage to her, and throughout the whole experience, even the aftermath, she had been nothing but kind to him.

She slowly turned her body around to face him, her small eyes falling onto his bright ones.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly.

He stared at her skeptically. What was she trying to do? If she wanted to hurt him or interrogate him, she wouldn't have asked him for his permission. Unless she was working at it from another angle. What if she was trying to psych him out? She seemed rather intelligent for her age.

Aulora took the silent response as a "yes" and slipped between the gap between the bars, her body just small enough to make it through.

"Aren't you afraid I'm going to hurt you?" he asked, watching warily as she took a seat against the wall opposite him, her legs crossing together and her head hanging low.

A small smile slipped across her face.

"I know you're not going to hurt me, Proditor," she replied quietly.

Did she honestly have that much confidence in him? He couldn't be trusted. He was never trustworthy. He watched as she slowly lifted her eyes up to his.

"Proditor, have you ever been betrayed?" she asked quietly, small tears returning to her eyes.

It was the beast's turn to smile.

"As I heard one of the other humans use the term earlier, it is the "story of my life,"' he replied.

She simply nodded in response. She seemed less energetic, less optimistic, than he had last encountered her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, changing the subject. Proditor instinctively flexed his tail over the still sore, newly-welded metal.

"Better, thank you. Your medic is quite the expert," he replied.

Aulora's face seemed to fall at the sound of the Autobot's name.

"I am no expert on many of the Autobot's Codes of Conduct, but I am sure that betrayal is not taken lightly," he replied.

Aulora turned to look at him skeptically, her eyes squinting with intrigue.

"How did you know I was talking about them?" she asked. She watched as the Ater Tigris lazily shrugged from his lying position on the ground, his tail twitching with animation.

"Call it a sixth sense," he responded.

"Aulora, Team Prime is a good group of 'Bots, and if there was anything I learned on Cybertron, it was that loyalty among the Autobots was something not to be trifled with," Proditor explained.

Aulora shook her head. "I was just a mission in their eyes. Nothing more. I thought I had somebody who would actually care about me. I was such a fool," she said.

"Did you see them last night!? When the medic and the two other bots came through the ground bridge, they were so scared of what might've happened to you. Or this morning, when you came to check up on me in the medical bay. The Prime didn't think twice when he picked you up and placed you out of harm's reach. If you were just a mission to be completed, why would they continue to worry about you…and care about you?" he asked gently.

Aulora gave a small chuckle. "Tushay," she responded, another smile forming on her lips. Her face suddenly fell serious, as she slowly got up from her seat and sat down right in front of the Ater Tigris, his head coming up about a few feet above hers. He almost flinched back. Did the human not realize he was dangerous? Was she not scared of him? He slowly scooted back a few feet from her, keeping a decent distance between the two. Her eyes scrunched with bewilderment.

"What's wrong?" she asked, gently.

"I don't want to hurt you," he replied, warily.

"Proditor, the only person, here, who fears you, is you," she replied, scooting forward a few inches.

"Please stay away from me, Aulora. I am capable of things you couldn't ever possibly comprehend," he explained urgently, backing up still further from the pup in front of him.

"But you did those things under Shockwave's control. That wasn't you fighting," she responded, watching him carefully.

"That's no excuse," he replied, shortly.

"Proditor, you have to stop beating yourself up. Forgiveness starts with you," she replied.

"I don't deserve it," he responded almost mechanically, Aulora watching as his face was quickly veiled with a cold, hardened shield, his eyes even losing a little life as he was forced to reminisce about his past.

"Proditor, what did I tell you before!? Everyone deserves it," Aulora pleaded.

Why was she trying so hard to convince? Why was she so determined with him? Aside from that, why did she even care? Proditor could not wrap his head around the fact that someone was so determined and ready to…help him; to convince him that he was wrong. Someone who cared enough to stay with him and show him where he needed guidance. He couldn't understand why. And of all people, a human.

Aulora heaved a large sigh and turned back up to the creature.

"I forgive you," she said, gently.

He turned to her in bewilderment.

"If it's going to start, let it be with me. I forgive you for scaring the scrap out of me, for scratching up my patio stone and for staining it blue," she replied, looking up at him.

She held out her hand to him, palm upward, facing the ceiling.

Proditor stretched his nose out to inspect the hand she offered. Forgiveness. _I forgive you_. Those words seemed sweeter than the wind across his ears. Though he knew it only relieved him of a small portion of the troubles he had committed, he couldn't hide the feeling of elation thumping contently within his spark. Did the small human even realize what she had just done? She had given him a small piece of his freedom back.

Freedom.

Freedom from the old, rusty chains of regret that held him down, that made every footstep heavier than the last. Now, one of the rings on the chains had broken. It had shattered and fell to the ground with a satisfying clank.

He extended his nose out to the girl, letting out a small purr as her gentle hand caressed the side of his face.

Freedom.

**WARNING: THIS IS NOT PART OF THE STORY**

**WARNING: THIS IS A MESSAGE FROM THE AUTHOR, IMPOSSIBLE IMPACT**

**THIS IS THE LAST STORY FOR THE CHAPTER "THE FATE OF A SHOOTING STAR: COMES BACK TO HAUNT" THE NEXT STORY WILL BE POSTED UNDER THE THIRD AND LATEST CHAPTER "THE FATE OF A SHOOTING STAR: TILTED AXIS**

**THANK YOU FOR THE COOPERATION AND PLEASE ENJOY THE REST OF THIS STORY**

Aulora shoved her hands further into her pockets as she continued to shuffle further down the corridor, keeping her eyes hung low to the ground.

She was supposed to feel happy right now.

She had helped the abandoned soul of a war criminal find a small piece of mind. More importantly, she had made a new friend. That alone should cause for the occasion of actually lifting her feet of the ground and planting them firmly, one after the other. They continued to scuff their way along the metal floor.

She should be excited right now.

Optimus Prime, the highlight of her childhood stories, the hero of all her fairytales, the knight in shining armor, was now her guardian. The leader of the Autobots was putting aside his overloaded, busy, hectic schedule to make room for little ole' her.

She should be astounded right now.

Alpha Trion, one of the greatest and wisest Primes, had visions of her back before she was even born. He had created relics and Zeta Guardians just for her to use at that very moment.

She should be…something.

But she felt nothing. She felt_ like_ nothing. She felt guilty for thinking the thoughts she was, but they couldn't help but wander aimlessly around her mind. Cliffjumper had known about her before he even met her. She was his mission. Cliffjumper hadn't made the serum necklace especially for her. Alpha Trion had instructed him to give it to her to make sure she could be tracked later on. So the relics would know where to find her. That they would somehow make it to her. Did Cliffjumper even like her the whole time he was cooped up in Aunt Lorelei's garage? Did he even like Aunt Lorelei? And what about bringing them back, after he was recovered, to meet the rest of Team Prime? Was that just a ploy too? A safety measure Alpha Trion instructed Cliffjumper to take? For so long she had thought it was fate. She had naïvely believed it was destiny for her aunt and Cliffjumper to meet like they did, and then for Aunt Lorelei to introduce her to him; to her new, first best friend. She had thought it was real, the friendship she shared with Cliffjumper, and the rest of Team Prime; that they had truly cared for her. She wanted to believe Proditor, that they truly did. But the doubts continued to cloud her judgment, and continued to tug at the back of her mind.

She truly wanted to believe that her involvement in all of this was just a coincidence. She wanted to believe that Team Prime, and Cliffjumper, would've trusted her and looked after her no matter what or who she was. She wanted to believe that all the jokes, all the stories, and all of the advice she listened to Cliffjumper tell all those months after school in that small garage were because he truly liked her, not because he needed to make sure he got the job done.

Her heavy eyes lifted to the sound of noise, as she slowly began to approach the main section of the hangar. She could clearly make out Arcee and Bulkhead's frantic voices, Bumblebee's urgent beeps mixing together. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but they were yelling…screaming almost.

Aulora quickly hastened her step until she rounded the corner, the entrance of the hallway leading directly to the medical bays.

She felt her insides roll like dead, raw meat onto the cold, hard ground beneath, as her wide eyes beheld the medic angled over her leader…her guardian's body as he pounded two large defibrillator extensions onto Optimus's chest, blue sparks igniting along their surfaces.

Her ears echoed with the paralyzing ringing of Optimus's spark monitor, a straight line dancing across the screen.


End file.
